Dumb Luck
by Dreamuero
Summary: "What's your name?" Annabeth asks, so quietly her voice is almost lost in the cool spring air. "Percy Jackson," he says after the longest second of her life. "Percy Jackson," she repeats back, testing it out and quite liking the way it tastes on her tongue. College AU.
1. Chapter 1

Look y'all, I get it. Why am I posting this when I haven't updated my stories in a long ass time? Good question. Unfortunately, I don't have a good answer. Basically, I started writing this a while ago and have been slammed with college applications and everything lately and this was super easy to write. I have the next chapter ready. I will probably post it next week. The story should be relativity short, maybe like 4 or 5 chapters.

This story is modeled after a series of HP one-shots by Provocative-Envy. If you like dramione and/or hansy, I would definitely recommend them.

If anyone is confused about the text structure, bold is Annabeth, non-bold is Piper.

(characters are probable ooc btw)

rating: m bc I want it be m but more specifically bc language and the lightest of lemons

disclaimer: no ownership

* * *

Annabeth

It all starts at a late night lecture.

Well... sort of—

That's when she agrees to Venice, anyway.

OoOoO

(7:48 pm) Annabethhhhh

(7:48 pm) This is soo boringg

(7:50 pm) answer

(7:50 pm) i just saw u open my text and not reply

(7:51 pm) bitch

(7:53 pm) is it weird that i think mr jean looks super hot w his new haircut

(7:55 pm) **st** **op**

(7:55 pm) **p** **ay attention**

(7:56 pm) THANK GOD u answered

(7:56 pm) i thought i was gonna fall asleep

(7:56 pm) why is this class even required

(7:57 pm) its stupid

(8:00 pm) **srsly?**

(8:00 pm) **this is why youre failing**

(8:01 pm) im not actually FAILING

(8:01 pm) u r exaggerating

(8:01 pm) i have a c

(8:02 pm) a c is AVERAGE

(8:02 pm) u r unaverage

(8:04 pm) **wow**

(8:04 pm) **burn**

(8:06 pm) fuck u

(8:08 pm) what r u doing for spring brk?

(8:08 pm) wanna go to baja?

(8:10 pm) **srsly piper**

(8:10 pm) **take notes**

(8:10 pm) **we have a test nxt class**

(8:11 pm) baja tho?

(8:11 pm) r u down?

(8:15 pm) **STOP**

(8:15 pm) **pi** **per wtf**

(8:15 pm) **u cant just throw shit**

(8:15 pm) **not ok**

(8:17 pm) no one noticed

(8:17 pm) **i noticed**

(8:17 pm) thoughts on baja?

(8:25 pm) **piper**

(8:25 pm) **you need to stop**

(8:25 pm) **ur aim sucks**

(8:25 pm) **you hit the kid next to me**

(8:25 pm) **he just looked at me weird**

(8:25 pm) **he knows**

(8:26 pm) lol

(8:26 pm) sure

(8:27 pm) **stop or im telling**

(8:28 pm) r u 8?

(8:26 pm) ill stop when u give me an answer on baja

(8:27 pm) **fine**

(8:27 pm) **no**

(8:29 pm) Annabethhh

(8:29 pm) pleaseee

(8:31 pm) **i swear to god**

(8:31 pm) **if u dont stop i will tell mr jean**

(8:32 pm) tattle tale

(8:32 pm) or is it tattle tail

(8:32 pm) ?

(8:32 pm) do u know?

(8:40 pm) y cant we go to baja?

(8:41 pm) Annabeth

(8:41 pm) !

(8:41 pm) im gonna throw something

(8:42 pm) **whos 8 now?**

(8:42 pm) **baja is too far**

(8:43 pm) ill pay

(8:45 pm) **no**

(8:45 pm) plz

(8:50 pm) fine

(8:50 pm) whatever

(8:50 pm) what about Venice?

(8:53 pm) **beach or island**

(8:54 pm) ...

(8:54 pm) beach

(8:54 pm) duh

(8:58 pm) **i never know with u**

(8:58 pm) **idk** **maybe**

(8:58 pm) **will u leave me alone now**

(9:00 pm) idk maybe

(9:14 pm) for real tho

(9:14 pm) mr jean is such a dilf

OoOoO

Annabeth never _wanted_ to go to Venice Beach.

It's a detail of little importance that she feels needs to be reiterated regardless.

She never _wanted_ to be stuck between two loud over-excited frat boys on a two and a half hour flight to LAX.

No.

She was coerced into the vacation by her best friend while she was deeply sleep deprived—mentally impaired really—another detail she thinks is worth attention as she might not have been in the correct state of mind to make such severe of a decision. A court of law couldn't convict her. How then, could her friend expect her to follow through on an inherently flawed promise?—

Piper doesn't buy it, going off about keeping promises and integrity. So Annabeth rolls her eyes and agreed, only smiling _slightly_ at her eccentric friend's resultant smile.

It isn't that she doesn't _enjoy_ vacation, but when she pictured her spring break, she had imagined encountering something _other_ than sweat and tequila and sun, perhaps something meaningful.

Oh well—her reasoning matters very little now as she has officially boarded her flight and is facing the consequences of her decision.

"Where are you going?" the dark haired boy to her right asks, a friendly smile painting his expression.

"LA," Annabeth replies curtly.

She doesn't _mean_ to be rude—well, maybe—but she _definitely_ means to put an end to the conversation.

"Me too!" he grins, his lips spreading wide to reveal a set of pearly whites.

Annabeth sighs.

"Where in LA?"

"Just around," she supplies vaguely, a light shrug swaying her shoulders.

"Cool!" He looks positively thrilled. It confuses her. "I'm going to Venice with my friends."

"Oh." Annabeth purses her lips. She wonders if Piper set this up.

Probably.

"We're renting a house by the beach," he expounds—even though she didn't ask. "It's gonna be so sweet."

"Maybe I'll see you around," she says with an air of finality and ducks her head into her bag, searching for her book, emphasizing the end of their conversation.

Annabeth smiles covertly at the silence that follows. She sits up and flips through her half annotated copy of _Macbeth_. She finds her place and starts reading the almost unfathomable English but only makes it four lines before she is interrupted again.

"Are you reading Shakespeare?" the boy to her left asks.

She nods, almost imperceptibly.

"I had to read that for lit last year."

Annabeth takes a deep breath, preparing for two hours of this.

OoOoO

(11:56 pm) omg

(11:56 pm) bruh

(11:56 pm) youre not gonna believe whos sitting nxt to me rn

(11:56 pm) its the hot guy from my econ class

(11:56 pm) should i talk to him

(11:57 pm) what do i say

(11:57 pm) why arent u responding?

(11:57 pm) im gonna talk to him

(11:57 pm) he so hot

(11:57 pm) wish me luck

(12:00 am) or dont

OoOoO

"Why didn't you text me back?" is the first thing Piper says to Annabeth when she gets off the plane.

Annabeth turns to her, looking slightly perplexed and excessively annoyed about the innocent question.

"I was on airplane mode," the blonde supplies, looking her friend up and down because did she _really_ think she was gonna pay for in flight WiFi?

Piper has the shadow of a frown creased between her brows, but the way she's pressing her lips together tightly—as if she seconds from spilling the secrets of the universe, of her soul from her pretty plump lips—makes it clear there is something much more exciting on the horizon.

Annabeth can't help but chuckle at the expression. It's so ridiculously juvenile that she is tempted to tease brunette, but the gesture is also so _Piper_ that she suppresses the urge.

"Guess what happened to me?" Piper asks with a wide grin, completely shattering any image of anger or displeasure.

"What?" Annabeth smiles, humoring her with an easy demeanor.

"Remember that hot blonde from my econ class that I was telling you about?" she inquires, glancing behind her, just to make sure he's not eavesdropping.

"Yes," Annabeth nods. How could she not remember? Piper had only talked about him for what had to account for several hours.

"He was sitting next to me on the plane!" the brunette recounts excitedly. "And guess what else?"

"Mh?"

"Him and all his frat friends are coming to Venice too!" she squeals excitedly.

Annabeth face falls at the remark, realizing the rest of their vacation has just been spoken for.

OoOoO

(4:16 am) okay

(4:16 am) so like

(4:16 am) is it just me or is our uber driver like super weird

(4:17 am) **he seems normal to me**

(4:17 am) nah

(4:17 am) something is def off

(4:20 am) 420

(4:20 am) make a wish!

(4:20 am) **not how 420 works**

(4:21 am) whatever

(4:21 am) wanna know what i wished for?

OoOoO

"You know we can just carry a normal conversation, right?" Annabeth asks, turning towards her friend with a tired expression.

"I suppose," Piper says in a teasing voice.

She looks much too good for the hour it is.

Annabeth resents her for it—in a friendly way, of course.

By the time they reach the house they've rented it's nearly five in the morning. Hazel and Frank, the friends they've agreed to split the rental with, open the door and greet them. The mild-mannered couple shows the girls to the room they're sharing. They bid them goodnight and return to bed.

It's almost half after now and all Annabeth wants to do is sleep—Piper has other plans. She says something about jet lag. Annabeth can't find it in herself to care and sleeps anyway.

OoOoO

(8:54 am) **where r u?**

(8:56 am) shopping

(8:56 am) groceries tho

(8:56 am) not clothes

(8:58 am) **you left?**

(9:00 am) ya

(9:03 am) **why** **would u wake me up if u were just gonna leave?**

(9:05 am) ill be back soon

(9:05 am) im just buying breakfast supplies

(9:06 am) **why?**

(9:06 am) **Hazel and Frank already bought everything**

(9:10 am) i wanted lucky charms

OoOoO

Regardless of how the morning went, Annabeth finds herself enjoying her first day of vacation more than she thought she would. She and Piper leave for the beach at noon. They're walking distance away so they reach it relatively quickly.

Annabeth is more than happy to spread her towel across the sand of the seashore and read her book in the familiar California sun. Piper sets up next to the blonde. She sets down her towel and lays with her back to the sun. She asks Annabeth to tap her in exactly fifteen minutes so she can flip over, achieving what she hopes will be the perfect tan.

Annabeth doesn't mention that Piper's skin is perfectly tanned as it is. She just shrugs and agrees.

It's not until two in the afternoon that Piper decides to walk on the beach, glancing conspicuously at her phone as she makes the declaration.

"Okay," Annabeth agrees unthinkingly and returns to her play.

Perhaps she should have thought—or perhaps it's better she didn't.

OoOoO

(2:32 pm) remember rachel?

(2:35 pm) Annabeth

(2:35 pm) Answer

(2:35 pm) Annabeth

(2:35 pm) Annabeth

(2:35 pm) Annabeth

(2:41 pm) **no**

(2:41 pm) **i dont remember rachel**

(2:42 pm) she lived on our floor last year

(2:42 pm) doesnt really matter

(2:42 pm) i just saw her

(2:42 pm) she wanted to know where u were

(2:42 pm) i told her

(2:43 pm) shes coming

(2:43 pm) be prepared

(2:45 pm) **do i know her?**

(2:47 pm) idk dude

(2:47 pm) but she knew our names

(2:47 pm) so

(2:47 pm) just be nice i guess

(2:48 pm) **fuck**

(2:48 pm) **does she have red hair?**

(2:48 pm) **i think shes coming**

(2:48 pm) **fuck**

(2:48 pm) **i remember now**

(2:49 pm) **come back**

(2:49 pm) **save me**

OoOoO

Annabeth is blonde, tan, with fine features and soft princess curls that spring up in humidity. She realizes that, at a glance, she is a typical California blonde. It's the reason people, expecting her to be, if put quite bluntly, _ignorant and stupid_ , are surprised, some even perturbed, at the realization that she is none of the above.

Oh well—

The way she sees it, people either spend time and truly get to know her and recognize she is the opposite of the stereotype, or they stay away from her completely, believing her to be stand-offish and bitchy.

Annabeth doesn't have a problem with her image. She finds it of little consequence to her. It has always repelled problems anyway.

There are the occasional drawbacks to her perceived position, however. And one of them is now sitting on Piper's towel beside her and trying excessively hard to converse.

"I'm totally that way too," Rachel agrees in a sing-songy tone. It's clear, based solely on her preferred topic of discussion, that she is still harboring resentment towards the blonde.

"So," Annabeth smiles, trying to move past the awkward subject. "Are you staying in Venice or...?" she trails off, waiting for the redhead to finish off her sentence.

"Hermosa," Rachel discloses.

Annabeth nods, hoping, wishing—fucking _pleading_ with the universe for Piper to return.

The universe does not answer her prayers. Quite the opposite in fact.

"How long are you staying?" Annabeth questions, trying to appear somewhat friendly to the sophomore.

"Well—" Rachel finishes her sentence in a squeak.

Annabeth is momentarily confused; that is until a wet volleyball hits her square in the face.

The blonde hears a masculine "fuck" from somewhere to her left just as she drops her book.

She is silent for at least five seconds after getting hit, simply stunned by the impact. She blinks once, twice, three times, as a dark figure stops in front of her, obstructing the sunlight.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

And she is silent for an additional second because _fuck_ he has nice shoulders and his skin is tanned and smooth, but his hair is horrendously neat and it's still _wet,_ and his swim trunks are pristine and he's wearing typical asshole sunglasses that look expensive and lavish and are perched on the bridge of his nose in the most infuriating manner possible and—just, no—Rachel can have him.

She blinks again.

Her face hurts.

"Yeah," she replies plainly. "I'm fine."

Annabeth brushes the sand off her lap only to see the soaked volleyball landed on her open book, and her perfect notes are bleeding into each other, and now she's supremely pissed.

She purses her lips and takes the book, wiping the affected pages one by one and hoping for the best.

"Sorry about that," the boy says with a cocky grin. He doesn't sound sorry. "Guess we got a bit caught up in our game."

He chuckles. The sound is awkward, nervous. Under different circumstances, she might find the sound endearing.

"I guess so," Annabeth replies sarcastically.

He frowns slightly, almost incredulously. As if he can't believe the words spilling from her lips.

"I think I've seen you around," Rachel cuts in before Annabeth can retort anything especially venomous. It's probably for the best, but it leaves the wound festering. "You're a Beta Sig, right?"

"Yeah!" the boy shouts, turning most of the heads on the beach.

Annabeth looks him up and down, an expression of distaste imprinted in her fine features. She wonders how he was accepted into a frat with a half decent reputation.

"You a Greek girl?" he questions brightly, his eyes eagerly scanning Rachel's figure.

It bothers the blonde. She's not sure why.

"Mhm," Rachel returns. "I'm Zeta Delta."

The dark haired boy's glasses fall to the bridge of his nose. His eyes are green—bright green—Annabeth notes with an edge of _ugh._

"You?" he asks, sending a questioning look her way.

"No," she responds shortly before returning her attention to her book and drying the pages with her towel again.

"Are you mad about your book?" he inquires, and she can feel his eyes on her.

She hates it—maybe she doesn't—she's unsure.

"Yes," she deadpans.

"Oh," he looks surprised, narrowing his eyes slightly, as if confused. "What are you reading?" his voice goes warm, comforting like a fire in the middle of dark winter. "50 Shades?"

Annabeth sighs—the flame is snuffed out—lifting her head to face him.

"Yes," she says enthusiastically, a sugary tone she's used much too many times slipping past her tongue in familiar sarcasm. "I'm reading a misogynist book of erotica on the beach and have notes written in the margins."

He looks positively bewildered. _Of course_ , he would. He's one of _those_ guys.

"I have to accurately record details so I can properly please my husband later in life."

Gods, she hates those guys. The ones that assume she'd vapid and shallow and ditsy because she looks the way she does. And so she _must_ be ignorant and a trust fund baby and easy and only aspire to marry rich. And that all somehow makes her lesser than him.

 _Fuck him._

She's better than him, and she fucking _knows_ it—

"Okay," the boy narrows his eyes at the blonde. He still looks confused.

Annabeth hopes she made him feel as dumb as his type's made her feel in the past.

"Bye," he says, clearly directing the statement to the Rachel before turning around and returning to his game of volleyball or beach ball or whatever.

She shakes her head and continues attending to the book in front of her.

Her face still hurts.

OoOoO

(5:10 pm) **is it bad to be petty**

(5:10 pm) **?**

(5:10 pm) **like could that my fatal flaw?**

(5:15 pm) lol what?

(5:15 pm) fatal flaw?

(5:15 pm) youve been reading too much shakespeare

(5:17 pm) **could it be tho?**

(5:20 pm) i guess

(5:20 pm) y?

(5:20 pm) what did u do

(5:21 pm) **i didnt DO anything**

(5:21 pm) **this girl cut me in line tho**

(5:21 pm) **when i was trying to order our tacos**

(5:21 pm) **i didnt call her out or anything**

(5:21 pm) **but like**

(5:21 pm) **i def took it as a challenge**

(5:22 pm) lol

(5:22 pm) **like by stepping in front of me**

(5:22 pm) **she was trying to fight me**

(5:27 pm) maybe she didnt see u

(5:27 pm) **im pretty sure she did**

(6:00 pm) btw

(6:00 pm) we got invited to a party tonight

(6:00 pm) at 8

(6:01 pm) and were going

(6:05 pm) **wait no**

(6:05 pm) **i have plans**

(6:06 pm) no u dont

(6:06 pm) stop lying

(6:07 pm) **i dont want to go**

(6:07 pm) if u go i promise to go to the Cali Science museum or whatever with u tomorrow

(6:08 pm) **first of all**

(6:08 pm) **California Science Center**

(6:08 pm) **second**

(6:08 pm) **fine**

(6:10 pm) **but youre** **vastly underestimating just how long i can spend at a museum**

(6:14 pm) and youre underestimating just how long i can spend at a frat party

(6:15 pm) **wonderful**

(6:15 pm) **ill start chugging coffee now  
**

OoOoO **  
**

Annabeth and Piper arrive at the house party, and the blonde finds herself sighing at the familiar sight.

She realized late her freshman year that frat parties that had lost their grand appeal. Now a sophomore, she couldn't help but look at the younger students and feel they were recklessly immature.

Piper, who still found joy in attending same old the parties, liked to remind Annabeth that she'd been similarly immature only a short year ago.

Annabeth takes a deep breath and follows Piper into the mass of people, hoping to make the best out of the situation.

"Who invited you to this party?" she asks. She has to yell, though, because—well—duh, it's a party.

"Jason."

"Jason?" Annabeth repeats back.

"Yeah," Piper nods, weaving through the crowd towards the kitchen where they seem to be serving drinks. "The hot blonde from my econ class."

"Oh."

Annabeth follows her friend into the kitchen. The college guys all start talking to Piper because _of course_ and they're looking her up and down and Annabeth, who has grown used to it, takes advantage of their lack of attention to reach behind them and mix herself an exquisitely strong drink. She takes a sip and revels in the burn that slides down her throat.

The blonde smiles, feeling her stomach curling and her veins filling with heat. She knows the night is still young, that it will only improve— _can_ only improve—

Or that's what she _thought_.

Until she saw him.

Again.

"Fuck," she mutters to herself, her eyes lowering to the red solo cup now tipping into her mouth.

She hopes he hasn't seen her. She has no desire to interact with him at this moment—or tonight—not until she's far from sober, anyway.

To her luck, he doesn't notice her. Probably because she's hiding her face behind a red cup and her body behind Piper.

It makes her frown though. She doesn't know why.

* * *

So, what did you guys think? I had a lot of fun writing it, the text exchanges are tedious to write but entertaining.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: yes, I'm back with another chapter sooner than I said I would be. That's simply the beauty of my complete unreliability sometimes.

disclaimer: the obvious

* * *

Percy

The second time Percy sees her is later that week, at the epic party he's finally convinced Jason to throw in his parent's old beach house.

He grins at her the sight of her fiery red hair and straight-toothed smile. He flashes her a charming smirk which she counters with a coquettish shrug of her bare shoulders. He turns away and heads into the foyer, watching her huff of frustration through his peripheral with an air of _as expected_ and _I'm Percy Jackson._

OoOoO

(8:03 pm) **remember that hot redhead i met**

(8:03 pm) **at the beach yesterday**

(8:05 pm) u were at the beach?

(8:05 pm) bro

(8:05 pm) why didnt u invite me?

(8:06 pm) **shes here**

(8:06 pm) **im gonna go say hi**

(8:09 pm) good luck

(8:09 pm) hope u dont fuck up as bad as last time

(8:11 pm) but

(8:11 pm) like

(8:11 pm) still

(8:11 pm) why was i not invited to beach day?

(8:11 pm) like, ur in my house. i feel like it would be customary to invite the host to the fun boys beach day u apparently had

(8:13 pm) **made my move**

(8:13 pm) **i just have to wait now and** **see if she takes the bait**

(8:21 pm) bro

(8:21 pm) bro

(8:21 pm) broseph

(8:21 pm) brosiah

(8:24 pm) **dude**

(8:24 pm) **srsly?**

(8:24 pm) **do we need to stage another intervention**

(8:24 pm) **bc id rather not see ethans serious face again**

(8:25 pm) **its weird**

(8:25 pm) guess whos here?

(8:25 pm) **its just his face**

(8:25 pm) **but like**

(8:25 pm) **idk**

(8:25 pm) **SOMETHING is weird**

(8:25 pm) its the plane girl

(8:25 pm) **?**

(8:25 pm) **who is that**

(8:26 pm) a girl i like

(8:26 pm) shes nice

(8:26 pm) she let me borrow her earphones

(8:26 pm) we watched Wallee together

(8:28 pm) **dude**

(8:28 pm) **wtf**

(8:28 pm) **its wall-e**

(8:29 pm) r u weirded out that we watched it together

(8:29 pm) or that i didnt know the correct spelling

(8:29 pm) ?

(8:34 pm) **both**

(8:34 pm) **bc** **that IS weird**

(8:34 pm) **but also**

(8:34 pm) **wall-e is a modern masterpiece**

(8:34 pm) **every self-respecting human being should be able to spell it**

(8:36 pm) lol

(8:36 pm) k

(8:36 pm) im gonna go talk to her

(8:36 pm) tell me what happens with redhead

(8:45 pm) **she took the bait**

OoOoO

"Hey," Jason greets Piper with a shy smile.

Annabeth narrows her eyes at him, scanning his expression for any signs of in-authenticity.

She doesn't find any.

"Hi," Piper returns his gesture, showing off her smile. It never fails to please.

"I'm glad you came," Jason says, stepping towards her.

Annabeth backs away from them because one, she's no cock block, and two, she has no desire to observe the sickly sweet stages of early infatuation.

She finishes her cup, makes herself another drink, and begins to explore the living room, a warm sense of ease setting into her bones.

OoOoO

(9:01 pm) **redhead didnt go as expected**

(9:01 pm) **shes crazy**

(9:01 pm) **dont tell her where i am**

(9:01 pm) **i ran**

(9:01 pm) **was forced to actually**

(9:49 pm) **holy shit**

(9:49 pm) **jason**

(9:49 pm) **jason**

(9:49 pm) **bro**

(9:49 pm) **jason**

(9:49 pm) **dont make me say the dreaded word**

(9:51 pm) **broseph**

(9:51 pm) what

(9:51 pm) ?

(9:52 pm) **wtf**

(9:52 pm) **is that like ur calling card or something**

(9:52 pm) **r u a witch**

(9:52 pm) **bc that was not normal**

(9:52 pm) **were u dropped in nuclear goo as a baby?**

(9:53 pm) percy

(9:53 pm) what do u want

(9:53 pm) **wow**

(9:53 pm) **bitchy**

(9:53 pm) ur interrupting

(9:53 pm) im leaving in exactly 2 min

(9:53 pm) so tell me fast

(9:53 pm) **ok**

(9:54 pm) **so i was at the beach today**

(9:54 pm) **right**

(9:54 pm) yes

(9:54 pm) i am painfully aware

(9:54 pm) **so like**

(9:54 pm) **i met this girl**

(9:54 pm) **super annoying**

(9:54 pm) **typical like "im better than u" girl**

(9:54 pm) **shes annoying**

(9:55 pm) **and bitchy**

(9:55 pm) **and judgmental**

(9:55 pm) **and just like doesnt understand humor i guess**

(9:55 pm) ...

(9:55 pm) k

(9:55 pm) **but like**

(9:55 pm) **shes also hot**

(9:55 pm) **like**

(9:55 pm) **surprisingly hot**

(9:55 pm) **but not in a good way**

(9:55 pm) **like her hotness is distracting bc like, wow, who would have thought**

(9:56 pm) im giving u one extra minute

(9:56 pm) but get to the point

(9:56 pm) **okay**

(9:56 pm) **so**

(9:56 pm) **shes talking to luke**

(9:56 pm) **i just saw her**

(9:56 pm) k

(9:56 pm) is that all?

(9:57 pm) **ya**

(9:57 pm) **wait**

(9:57 pm) **no**

(9:57 pm) **i think im gonna throw something at her**

(10:01 pm) **r u gone**

(10:01 pm) **?**

(10:01 pm) **fine**

(10:01 pm) **ill flip a coin then**

(10:01 pm) **heads yes**

(10:01 pm) **tails no**

(10:03 pm) no

(10:03 pm) dont throw anything

(10:03 pm) thats ALWAYS a bad idea

(10:05 pm) **alternate idea**

(10:05 pm) **spill something**

(10:06 pm) **thoughts?**

(10:07 pm) **?**

(10:12 pm) **im gonna do it**

OoOoO

If Percy were sober, he would have ignored her completely. If Percy were _just_ drunk, he would have thought twice about his decision. But Percy is currently far past wasted and under the influence of a hastily rolled joint.

He's surprisingly strategic about the timing—it's so precise he impresses himself with his mental dexterity. He hangs back, staying where she can't see him, considering the situation before him. He sees Luke head towards the kitchen, probably for a drink, and takes advantage of her momentary seclusion.

Percy begins to stalk towards her with his red cup full of cheap beer in his right hand. He's like a predator—one of those wicked saber tooth tigers he'd learned about in his freshman prehistory class—and she is a gazelle, prancing around the prairie, oblivious to his presence. He slows as he nears her and lets out the quietest of growls before reprimanding himself because _seriously Percy? Get your head in the fucking game_.

Then he's at her side, and she's staring down at her phone, frowning slightly. Her lips are turned downward at the corners. The expression that looks unnatural on her face—unpleaseant—Percy's not sure why.

He briefly wonders what's troubling her, wonders if he could fix it, then wonders why it's troubling _him_ in the first place.

He shakes his head, effectively clearing his mind of any excessively confusing thoughts.

Then, as casually as possible, he runs straight into her, spilling his drink down the front of her dark tank top.

"What the fu—" the blonde starts to exclaim but cuts herself off when she sees him, a devilish smirk plastered on his face.

"Oops," he manages. "Funny running into you here." He laughs at his inadvertent pun, finding it to be quite possibly the funniest joke of 2017.

She just peers at him, incredulity dancing in the strange color of her eyes—blue, he'd decided before, but now he's not so sure.

He grins charmingly, his eyes raking her figure. He does it for two simple reasons. First and foremost, it is an experiment; he wants to know if his patented Percy Jackson smile will work on all girls, even the stubborn annoying ones—he is simply curious as to the results, no personal stake in the matter—of course.

The second reason he does it is to irritate her. Because he _knows_ that it's the same smile she's seen a hundred other times from drunk frat boys—and whatever, he doesn't care what she thinks. In fact, he _revels_ in the look of utter disbelief and the huff of fury that escapes her enticing pink lips.

Yes, they _are_ enticing—he is willing to admit it—what comes out of them, however, not as much.

"You totally did that on purpose," the blonde states decidedly, pursing her lips together in a tight line. It's a shame, really, the way her expression distorts the pretty petals.

"I totally did," Percy mocks, taking a step towards her because it's loud, and he's intrigued to see how she reacts to his actions—expirimentally speaking, of course—for research purposes if nothing else. "Didn't I?"

The blonde stares at him for a second, her—icy blue green?—eyes boring into him. He watches her take a deep breath, follows her chest as it rises and falls, barely registers her sharp sudden movements as she turns to the group of sorority girls all circled rather awkwardly behind her.

He arches a brow, puzzled by her action—perhaps she's studying him as well—all confusion disappears, however, when she snatches one of their cups and throws the drink at him.

"Now we're even," she says, and her gaze is positively murderous—and, gods, it should not be turning Percy on so much.

She stalks away before he can get another word in. Percy watches her go.

He should be put off by her attitude, but he's not. He's not sure why. Maybe it's the thrilling notion of a challenge, maybe it's the way her presence makes his blood boil, but, probably, it's the slightest possibility that she thinks aggressive arguing is a most effective form of foreplay.

OoOoO

(11:24 pm) where are u?

(11:24 pm) i want taco bell

(11:48 pm) do u want a chalupa?

OoOoO

Her name is Annabeth Chase, he finds out. She is also a sophomore at University of Denver. He wonders how he never noticed her before. The name is relatively familiar but—

"She doesn't go out much," Luke explains the next morning. "She only came because her friend forced her to." He's wearing a shit-eating grin, and Percy knows—just fucking _knows_ —he wants her too. "She's that girl who's always organizing the marches and shit. She's rallying for the school go test-optional, something about standardized testing being a conduit for social stratification and a representation of institutional wealth."

"Huh," Percy supplies thoughtfully.

Apparently, Percy learns, she's some kind of genius child, a prodigy or something like that. She's double majoring in political science and foreign relations. She interned at the UN and is good friends with the two congressman. She's practically _famous_ —

And Percy never noticed her.

OoOoO

(5:03 pm) **you invited piper right?**

(5:03 pm) **for tonight**

(5:05 pm) yes

(5:05 pm) why?

(5:06 pm) **unimportant**

(5:06 pm) **tostitos original or scoops?**

(5:08 pm) r u joking

(5:08 pm) obvsly scoops

OoOoO

The third time Percy sees her it's late, and he's a little more sound of mind—only a little. He finds himself, much to his surprise, actively seeking her out rather than waiting for the alternative.

"You act like you don't like me," Percy prompted, leaning against the beam beside her. "Yet you continue to show up at my parties."

Annabeth turns slowly, something between exhaustion and annoyance playing at her lips.

"Trust me," she says, her eyes glinting with what he thinks might be amusement, "if I had known this was your party, I wouldn't have come."

She's lying. Percy knows it. He can see it in her eyes, and he fucking revels in it.

OoOoO

He watches her throughout the night—not in a creepy way, though—he hopes it's not creepy, anyway.

She's watching him too though. He can tell by the seemingly casual but much too frequent way her eyes dart in his direction before shooting back to her red solo cup.

Midnight strikes, though, and like some twisted version of Cinderella, she has disappeared. His eyes scan the room, searching for her tell-tale curls or her conservative style, but blue and red lights shine through the windows and the resulting chaos is wildly disorienting. Percy loses her in the chaotic crowd as college students flee the scene.

He shrugs. He's never believed in fate—but, then again, maybe this isn't fate, maybe it's just luck. And he's never been lucky.

So Percy follows in suit, exiting through the back door with an ease that would have made others panic. He knows the police won't look in the backyard, not yet anyway. He hops over the fence with a tact that only comes from experience and begins to walk down the back road behind the houses. He's done this enough times to know it will take the police, on average, seven extra minutes to check the back entrance when investigating the residence for a noise complaint, so he's got time.

OoOoO

(12:09 am) **cops showed up**

(12:09 am) **beware**

(12:10 am) i know

(12:10 am) piper and i are hiding in a closet

(12:12 am) **why a closet?**

(12:13 am) because we were already in the bedroom to begin with and the bathroom seemed too obvious

(12:15 am) **nice**

(12:17 am) **wait**

(12:17 am) **which closet?**

(12:20 am) sorry dude

OoOoO

Percy is walking down the street, phone in hand, wallet in pocket, when a flash of gold cross his path. He narrows his eyes, surveying the scene. There she is, waiting on the street corner, arms crossed tight across her chest.

Percy checks his phone, it's been four minutes, only three left, not nearly enough time to engage the blonde. Still, despite his better judgement, he finds himself slowly pacing towards her, unreasonably intrigued by her venomous wit.

"Oh," Annabeth says when she sees him, the corner of her lips curling into a sneer. "It's you."

"Who did you think it was?" he questions, smirking at her, disappointed by her demeanor in spite of basic logic.

"The friend who dragged me here in the first place," Annabeth replies, letting out an exasperated sigh as she glances down at her phone.

He notices she does that a lot, sighs—like she's disappointed in what's being presented to her.

"Piper?" he asks unthinkingly.

"What?" Annabeth swivels sharply in his direction. "How do you know that?"

"I know Jason," he supplies with a casual wave of his arm. "Did you enjoy the party?" he asks, trying to shift the subject because he'll be damned if she discovers her effect on his mind.

She studies his face for several moments—like she's memorizing his features and cataloging his micro-expressions and searching for _meaning_ or order or chaos or who the fuck knows, and he usually despises being looked at so intently, so earnestly, usually doesn't allow anyone close enough to even get the chance to try—

 _But_ —

He's a little drunk and a little wrecked and a little stupid and she's fucking _beautiful_ —

"Do you really care?" Annabeth counters, lifting her brows in incredulity, and he's caught off guard by her remark.

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't ask," he tells her.

Then she's staring at him, and he's staring right back, watching her with a fascination so severe, it rivals on academic. Her cold irises flicker with such blatant distrust that it occurs to him somewhat vaguely that maybe it's for the best that he has a snowball's chance in hell with this girl—she seems like her inherent super-type-A personality issues even have issues, and that's… a lot of fucking issues. He has his own brand of crazy to work through. He doesn't have the energy to deal with hers, too.

"I—" she begins before cutting herself off at the sound of sirens. They both turn to see cop cars rounding the corner, the colored lights flashing.

Percy sighs and realizes he must have miscalculated. Or perhaps they're simply early, or, probably, the universe is just set on purposefully inconveniencing him. He turns towards the blonde next to him as a lazy exhale slips past his lips.

He is immediately struck by the stunning way the blue and red hues dance across the delicate planes of her face. But then he rapidly notes the panicked widening of her eyes, the sudden stiffness of her limbs and the frenzied way her breaths are escaping her, alarm spilling softly into the summer air.

"What do we do?" she asks, her voice soft, her movements hectic.

And it suddenly occurs to Percy that maybe she's never done this before, that frat parties might not be her norm. And it's strange, and he isn't sure he understands, isn't sure he wants to either—

"Dude!" Annabeth hisses, and he frowns slightly because why is she calling him that, no one has called him _dude_ since high school, but then her fingers are twitching with apprehension and digging into the fabric of his t-shirt, knuckles turning white with fear.

Percy knows he's not a hero, quite the opposite, in fact. He'd say he identifies more with the charming, suave villain. But in this moment there's nothing more he wants than to rescue this girl, this girl who has somehow imprinted herself into the back of his psyche without even trying.

And it's around the same moment Percy realizes that she doesn't know his name that he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into a neighboring yard, tucking them both into the shadow of an enormous oak tree.

They are both silent as the police spread into the surrounding area, lazily shooing away students. Percy shifts his gaze down, away from the cops and down to eyes which are still wide and slightly glazed over in fear. He parts his lips to grant her words of comfort but finds his throat uncomfortably dry and abnormally hot.

In the shared silence, her gaze flicks to meet his, and he, for the first time, gets a good look at her eyes. And—fuck—how he wishes he hadn't because he notes the strange gray color of her irises and the captivating depth of the storm swirling inside, and he doesn't need another fucking reason to think about this confusing girl who is already occupying at least 20% of his thinking capacity.

And he might not be good with words, or spelling, or basic grammar—but he sure as hell understands math and that's five hours of his day, 95 hours of his spring break so far.

95 fucking hours.

"Sorry," she breathes, shifting awkwardly in his grasp.

And it suddenly dawns on Percy that she's pressed against him, and he is instantly hyper aware of every inch of her body touching his—slender and small and warm and pliant and fuck fuck _fuck_ —and, granted she'd trying to put space between them, she's moving in a way that should be fucking illegal and—

"Fuck," she whispers as a bright beam of a flashlight shoots in their direction, and the lude word rolling off her tongue does little to rebuff the erotic images flashing across the canvas of his mind.

Annabeth goes still and at least _that_ helps... slightly, anyway.

It's not until several minutes later that the apparent threat to her fucking safety—if the way she has practically torn through his shirt with her nails is any indication of the severity—has dissipated. The majority of the police have left the scene and a few are still talking to kids, berating them for basically just having _fun_.

The blonde steps back, and he's expecting a smile, a thank you, a fucking glowing Yelp review—he really doesn't know what he's expecting but it's definitely not the cold expression and a sniff of seeming distaste he receives.

"Your party was _terrible_ ," she seethes, crossing her arms over her abdomen and inadvertently pushing her breasts together and _really_ , he thinks in despair, just— _really_? He goes out of his goddamn way to sort of rescue the figurative distressed damsel and _actual torture_ is his reward?—But then also thinks _fuck her_ because he was just her knight in shinning fucking armor, and he didn't hear a single note of gratitude in her response.

"Sorry," he tries to match her expression but knows she's already mastered that angry pretty look past contention. "Maybe I should take a page out of your playbook and be swottish and awkward and overall fucking abhorrent."

She cringes for a fraction of a fraction of a second, and Percy is briefly worried he's stepped over the line and _what the fuck_ , because that's never been a concern of his before, well maybe, but not since grade school, not since—her expression of hurt is so fleeting that the thought flees his mind just as quickly, and he's faced with a pair of narrowed eyes so fucking intense his cock actually twitches.

"Abhorrent," Annabeth repeats back to him, eyeing him up and down, disdain perfectly written into her features. "A big word for you, I'm sure."

Her tone is dry enough that he can't _quite_ tell if she's joking or not. He doesn't think she is. The thought pricks him, which is dangerous, honestly, considering his current state of mind, but also kind of _relieving_ , too, because it means that this girl hasn't rendered him _completely_ fucking useless, just mostly. He decides that he can work with that.

He offers her his most exaggerated shit-eating grin.

"Tell me, princess—what does that upper middle class hypocrisy of yours actually taste like?" he asks, taking an step towards her. A wave of heat washes over him and he's not sure if it's the tequila or her presence—which appears to be just as intoxicating, though possibly more dangerous. "Is it sweet? Sour? _Umami_?"

She takes a deep, ostensibly calming breath and turns hard on her heel, not sparing him another glance as she marches away.

He watches her go, realizing she still doesn't know his name.

OoOoO

(6:32 pm) percy

(6:32 pm) i dont judge

(6:32 pm) but like

(6:32 pm) why were u talking to reyna?

(6:35 pm) i realize its none of my business

(6:35 pm) but

(6:35 pm) still weird

(6:41 pm) **u know how ppl say a little mystery never hurt anyone**

(6:41 pm) **total lie**

(6:41 pm) **mystery hurts tons of ppl**

(6:41 pm) **like murder**

(6:41 pm) **if its a mystery then the murderer is still out there**

(6:43 pm) ?

(6:43 pm) k

(6:43 pm) what does that have to do with reyna?

(6:44 pm) **nothing nvm**

(6:44 pm) **i just think its an important distinction to make**

(6:47 pm) ...

(6:47 pm) noted

OoOoO

The next time he's sees her it's mid April. He's sitting in the kitchen of his frat house, lazily watching a sorority girl dancing on their cheap IKEA table. He is really just waiting for it to the break, a rather cruel thought but the prospect entertains him nonetheless.

Then she crosses his path, so casually he is confused for split second. He turns and sees her, dressed in a bulky red sweater that is overwhelmingly appropriate for the weather but frustrating regardless because it's been a month and he still finds himself imagining the her lithe body under his in otherwise compromising situations.

Her lips are winter wet and her skin is tinged with a pink glow.

He, on impulse alone, steps towards her, an irrational desire to be near her, to put to rest this ridiculous fascination that has become a constant distraction.

A second later, he hears her voice. His back is turned to her, but he knows.

"Piper," she sighs. "You promised me this would be quick. I have SoC at eight tomorrow."

The brunette rolls her eyes but shoots her friend a warm hearted smile.

"It will be quick, I promise."

Then Piper leaves, and Annabeth is sighing again, and Percy is wondering whether or not to interject.

"What's S-O-C?" he asks finally, pivoting to face her.

"You," Annabeth points accusingly.

"Me," Percy congratulates, sarcasm bleeding into his every word.

"Do you feel a need to interrupt my _every_ thought?" she demands, her rosy lips pursed annoyingly.

He scoffs.

And then he thinks about her lips and then he thinks about her lip on his skin and then he thinks, again, about her lips around his cockG

By sheer force of his iron will, he manages not to shiver.

* * *

Second chapter done, I'm hella proud. I wrote this so fast. Also, I used a few lines here and there from Bite Marks which is a dramione fic just because it's this same style, and it's so fucking beautifully written.

funny business and hotel escape should both be done pretty soon here because I'm entering no school November.

ciao, c ya'll l8r


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: beware, brevity ahead. also, like the slightest of slightest of sex. It's really just implied.

disclaimer: ownership = nada

* * *

Annabeth

"No," he insists, an easy grin playing at his lips, but it's too easy, forced almost.

Annabeth considers him for a second, gazing up at him through her bare lashes. She's seen more of him in the last few weeks than she has in her entire college career, and she still doesn't know his fucking name and that's infuriating. It's not like she can ask Piper because the brunette might—no, _will_ , definitely will—jump to incorrect assumptions in regard to the object of her inquiry.

So Annabeth's stuck in limbo, this weird unstable area where she could recall the elements of his physical appearance to a forensic artist and surely produce an accurate sketch of him but still doesn't know his fucking name.

She wonders if she could still get him arrested without it. She isn't sure why the thought flies through her mind.

"Sure," Annabeth drawls back. She parts her lips, a sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue when a bang goes off behind her and, just as she's turning to see whether someone is seriously stupid enough to light a firework inside a fucking house, someone pushes her from behind. She stumbles forward and feels an arm wrap around her waist. Any comment dissipates into the stuffy beer infested air the second she glances up.

"Sorry," he smirks but doesn't let go. His eyes are green—but they're also blue and they're confusing and Annabeth doesn't like confusing. She likes straight answer and rules and organization and his presence is none of the above.

Annabeth wrenches herself from his grip. Not that he was physically objecting in any way, in fact, she more feels the strain of her own muscles, working against her as if they have a mind of their own.

"What was that?" Annabeth questions, pivoting towards the sound to assure herself that no one's hurt. That's what she tells herself anyway. She knows everyone's okay. There's no screaming, no dead silence, the volume is somewhere near the center of the spectrum and in her past experience that's always been a good sign.

"Aprils fools," Percy answers simply, casually. "There are tons of booby traps hidden around the house."

"That's not even—ugh," Annabeth cuts herself, figuring he wouldn't appreciate a history of April Fool's day and an explanation of how it had to do with cultural colonization and not dull pranks.

"What?" he asks, his wildly confusing eyes boring straight into her. "Not the true meaning of April 1st?"

"What?" Annabeth snaps, her heartbeat rises, and, suddenly, she's hot—she doesn't know why. She's not usually this hot— _h_ _e's_ hot—wait, what?—no, definitely not.

But on a supremely more important note, did he just read her mind?

"I thought that was what you were going say," he shrugs, a blank expression flickering across his features as he lifts his red solo cup to his lips.

"What's your name?" Annabeth chokes out.

His mouth is still partially obscured by the rim of his drink, but she manages to see his lips curve into a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I wondered when you'd ask," he grins. "Though I honestly thought you would have already figured it out by now. You seem like the type who knows everything about everything."

"Yes, well," Annabeth replies with an impatient bite, peering at him expectantly.

He looks much too pleased with himself. She hates it—except, maybe she doesn't because the bow of his lips is quite pleasant and the spark of mischief in his eyes makes the colors especially mesmerizing.

"I don't know if I should tell you," he prompts, placing his cup on the counter behind him before facing her fully. "I must say, I enjoy your look of frustration, Annabeth Chase."

Her name slips off of his tongue, and she feels her nerves come alive. She thinks she might have butterflies—no, they're probably bats.

"You scrunch up your nose and purse your lips, and I must admit it's quite cute."

Fuck, they better be bats because Annabeth is not about to fuck someone who just told her her patented death glare was _cute_ —what, no—the point is moot. There's no need to make the distinction because she's not going to fuck him, she was _never_ going to fuck him—What is she _thinking_? She has enough on her plate with her mom and her dad and her stepmom and her stepbrothers and her internship and the entire mess that is currently her life.

"I—" she begins. She has no idea what she's going to say. It doesn't matter. She just needs _some_ way to respond such a cavalier comment about her appearance.

Just then, another bang goes off behind her, but this one's much closer and much louder and— _fuck_ —it scares Annabeth out of her fucking mind.

She turns on her heel, towards the source of the noise, looking to discover it's origin. She can't see anything. Then, suddenly, there's a dark ball of legs right dangling in front of her, almost touching her nose.

Annabeth honestly doesn't know how long it took for her to realize there was a spider balancing precariously above her, it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, it doesn't matter because the moment she notices it the rest of the party disappears. Who is she kidding, the rest of the fucking world disappears and it's just her and this spider and fuck if she doesn't want to cry.

Annabeth jumps back into the arms of someone—whoever, she really doesn't give a shit at this point—standing behind her and lets out a blood-curdling scream. It rings in her ears, echoing across the expanse of her mind. And the blonde thinks the worst is over, but, then, reality comes rushing back to her fast enough to give her fucking whiplash—and, gods, she can't fucking breath—and someone is standing in front of her teasing her with another spider. And suddenly there's four and then there's eight and now fourteen fucking hundred—and her thoughts have become fragments—she can't see but she can hear laughter, at her surely, and her blood is pounding in her ears and she's sure she's frozen in place but somehow she's still moving through the crowd, two hands firmly stationed at the curve of her waist.

And then, slowly, her breathing slows and the air is cold and her surroundings come into focus and she's outside. She turns around and sees the guy— _that_ guy—the one she's been questioning for weeks, and she can't think of anything but how fucking _grateful_ she is.

"Your friends are horrible," she rages finally, crossing her arms over her chest, then wonders if that was really the best way to thank him. The encounter is so similar to their last, Annabeth can't help but hold her breath.

"Yeah," he agrees. His voice is soft and soothing and just so different than what she was expecting.

"What's your name?" Annabeth asks, so quietly her voice is almost lost in the cool spring air.

He takes a step towards her just as she shivers—it's the cold though, she's sure of it. It _has_ to be the cold because—well, becuase—it's fucking April in Colorado. Of course, it's the cold.

He stares at her, tilting his head slightly to the left, a thoughtful glint embedded so deep in his bewildering eyes that she stutters. She swallows heavily. His warmth must be seeping into the winter air around her because she can feel her body getting hot again.

"Percy Jackson," he says after the longest second of Annabeth's life.

"Well, Percy Jackson," the blonde says, testing it out and quite liking the way it tastes on her tongue. "Aren't you going to ask me what the fuck that was?" she asks with a snarl curling at the corner of her mouth as she imitates the figures in her past, unable to constrain the memories wandering freely into her brain.

"No," he says simply, the tiniest speck of amusement visible in his gaze. "I'm not going to ask."

 _Oh_ , she mouths to herself. But his answer leaves her entirely unsatisfied in such an unexpected way that she has no control over the words the subsequently escape her. "Why not?"

He tucks his hands into his pockets and kicks at a pine needle.

Maybe it's a stupid question, but she wants to know— _needs_ to know—why he isn't demanding an explanation like so many before.

"Becuase, well..." he muses, not quite meeting her eyes. "Two reasons, I guess. First—I don't really want to ask. It's fifty-fifty, I figure, on whether or not you'll cry if I do, and crying girls are basically my kryptonite, so—thanks, but no thanks."

She can't help but grin at his answer but manages to smother it before he notices.

"And second," he continues, but cuts himself off and raises his gaze to catch hers. "Full disclosure?"

"That seems like a dangerous proposition with you," Annabeth ventures delicately, unable to hide a chuckle.

"The second reason," he says, drawing the words out, "is that if I was you…and you were me…and this was all reversed… You could ask," he shrugs, "but I wouldn't tell you the truth. I save the harrowing emotional bullshit for one-night-stands whose numbers I conveniently lose the next morning, you know?"

 _Oh_ , she mouths again because perhaps she has found someone who truly understands, someone as broken and fucked up and plagued with this bullshit as she is.

And maybe—just _maybe_ —he gets it.

"Fuck," she realizes, a sigh of resignations escaping her, lingering in the cool air as a cloud of warmth.

"What?" he asks, frowning at her outburst.

"Damn it," she says as she steps forwards and drags his lips to hers.

OoOoO

(10:52 pm) **im going home**

(10:52 pm) **if u want to spend the night with jason i wont be mad**

(10:52 pm) **hormones are a thing**

(10:52 pm) **i get it**

(10:56 pm) omg thx so much for being so understanding

(10:56 pm) u r seriously the best friend on the planet

(10:56 pm) thank you thank you thank you

(11:05 pm) **ill see you tomorrow**

(11:07 pm) night 33

OoOoO

"I don't like you," she states decidedly as her fingers catch his belt loops, holding on as she falls back against her cheap bedspread.

"I don't like _you_ ," he counters, his lips brushing hers as his fingers teasing a breathless moan out of her.

"One time?"

"One time."

His digits dig into her hips. Tomorrow there will be bruises, beautiful blue prints peppering her skin. She gasps as they're joined, choking on a strangled _Percy_.

It's—

She—

He—

"More—" she whispers, and he groans into her neck, kissing her lips and her jaw and her neck and _fuck_ —she lets her head fall back as a delectable hum slips from her lips, dancing on a whisp of winter air, mingling delightfully with the finest of her delusions.

OoOoO

(4:35 pm) why is there even a high to low option when online shopping

(4:35 pm) who do u think i am?

(4:35 pm) oprah?

(4:37 pm) **oprah isnt dumb enough to evaluate clothing based firstly on the price**

(4:37 pm) **oprah would look for a deal**

(4:37 pm) **oprah would be extreme couponing**

(4:40 pm) lol

(5:03 pm) yo do u remember luke?

(5:03 pm) jasons friend

(5:03 pm) fratmate?

(5:03 pm) bro?

(5:03 pm) frat bro?

(5:04 pm) idk their relationship is weird

(5:08 pm) **yes i remember him**

(5:08 pm) **y?**

(5:10 pm) hes been asking about you

(5:10 pm) i gave him ur number

(5:23 pm) **no**

(5:23 pm) **r u serious?**

(5:23 pm) **please tell me ur joking**

(5:29 pm) what?

(5:29 pm) hes hot

(5:29 pm) u would be cute together

(5:31 pm) **false**

* * *

a/n: I realize this is like really really short, but I want to switch over to Percy's perspective and I'd rather do that in an entirely different chapter.

I used a few lines here and there from Bite Marks, a Dramione fic. It's just so beautiful that I couldn't resist.

10/10 would recommend.

also, not to be _that_ person, but reviews do a lot for both my sanity and enthusiasm.

Updates (I might make this a thing) - HE: still only 2 lines = 1.6% done, FB: 3/5 = 60%, DL: about to start = 0.0%

Ciao!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: do I even need to disclose honestly? like we all know I don't own PJO

* * *

Percy

It's not going to happen again. Annabeth is very clear about that.

"I don't have time for this, Percy," she insists, so he, ever the logical one, asks her to the movies.

She says no.

"I thought you understood," she sighs, running her fingers through her curls.

OoOoO

(2:04 pm) bro

(2:04 pm) u good?

(2:10 pm) **im fine**

(2:10 pm) **im cool**

(2:11 pm) **so cool that i** **want to throw another party**

(2:15 pm) u dont seem good

(2:15 pm) thalia said ur agnsting

(2:17 pm) **thats a made up word**

(2:18 pm) did u srsly argue w ur calc teacher about the origin of aprils fools day?

(2:20 pm) **no**

(2:21 pm) thals says u did

(2:21 pm) **thalia is lying**

(2:22 pm) she says theres a vid of it

(2:24 pm) **k**

(2:24 pm) **so**

(2:24 pm) **maybe i explained where it came from**

(2:24 pm) **i didnt argue tho**

(2:25 pm) where r u?

(2:26 pm) **house**

(2:28 pm) stay there

(2:28 pm) i just got this book out for u

(2:28 pm) its called expressing your feelings for dummies

(2:31 pm) **that was in the school library?**

(2:32 pm) nah

(2:32 pm) i bought it off a homeless woman

(2:32 pm) **jason**

(2:34 pm) okay

(2:34 pm) so maybe not the best decision

(2:34 pm) but she was v convincing

(2:36 pm) **please dispose of the haunted/infected/cursed/magical book on ur way home**

(2:34 pm) but magic is dope

(2:36 pm) **do not cross the threshold of this frat house w that book in ur hands**

(2:34 pm) ugh **  
**

(2:34 pm) fine

(2:34 pm) i hope u get haunted

(2:38 pm) **dont u put that black magic on me ricky bobby**

(2:41 pm) stop

OoOoO

"One time," she argues, marching down the hall of the Communications building. "I thought we agreed."

"I never made any promises," he states, following her movement.

"Ugh," she groans, glancing around her before pulling him into one of the empty adjoining hallways.

Percy grins because _yes_ and _finally_ —this urge of his, this itch, has become overwhelming.

"How do you keep showing up where I am?" she questions, pinning him to the wall with a scolding finger. "Are you stalking me?"

"No," he blinks. He's imagined them in this position, but his fantasies have never included her waving her finger threateningly at him. "I'm not stalking you."

He isn't lying... well—not technically. So maybe he'd made a deal with Reyna to obtain information in regard to her whereabouts and her likes and dislikes. And _maybe_ he'd been fucking appalled to hear she watched c-span for _enjoyment_ —for fucking _enjoyment_ —and seriously wondered whether it was worth it, whether _she_ was worth it. And maybe he'd decided, with a sigh of resignation and a tense jaw, that, despite their lack of interaction up until this point, the answer was a resounding yes.

So no, he isn't _stalking_ her—admiring is more like it.

"How do you explain your constant appearances then?" she demands.

Percy wants to answer, is going to answer, but he is momentarily distracted by her tank top. The strap is sliding down the curve of her shoulder, exposing the fullness of her collarbone, the delicate skin he can remember scraping with his teeth just a week and a half ago.

"I'm attracted to you," he shrugs, a sly smile coming across his lips. "My body is naturally pulled towards yours."

"That's nonsensical," Annabeth rolls her eyes. She places her hands on his chest and pushes, hard. And maybe it's the force with which she shoves him, or maybe he simply detects the serious undertone to her speech for the first time, but he steps back at her words, gives her some space because he's not _that_ guy.

"I wanted to ask you to lunch," he says, his gaze flashing up to meet hers through his lashes.

"No," Annabeth states decidedly, looking slightly confused by his tone, or maybe she's angry. He doesn't care. It's not his issue anymore. She said no.

Percy nods, turns, and leaves and seriously hopes he won't ever see her again. He expects he won't because he never saw her before. But then he does. Over the next few weeks she's everywhere—fucking _everywhere_ —and, every time he sees her perfect fucking smile and her scary gray eyes, the wound is reopened and fuck if he wouldn't kill for a first aid kit right now, but, honestly, he isn't quite sure how that metaphor fits into real life.

OoOoO

(6:10 pm) wanna go see a movie?

(6:10 pm) tonight

(6:22 pm) **what movie?**

(6:26 pm) u pick

(6:27 pm) **why r u being so nice to me?**

(6:29 pm) im not

(6:30 pm) **u havent let me pick the movie in years**

(6:30 pm) **u always say**

(6:30 pm) **we have to come to a compromise percy**

(6:30 pm) **just like in life**

(6:31 pm) **and u treat it like a life lesson just to get out of watching fast and furious**

(6:34 pm) k

(6:34 pm) in my defense

(6:34 pm) those movies are fucking awful

(6:35 pm) **not the point**

(6:36 pm) i maybe noticed u were a little sad

(6:36 pm) and maybe i also heard u and luke planning a night of revelry

(6:36 pm) so i thought i might take u out

(6:39 pm) **fine**

(6:39 pm) **but were gonna watch some trash**

OoOoO

Percy avoids her for the most part, as much as he can anyway. It's not that he doesn't _want_ to be friends with her, he's just not sure he _can_ be.

Then, one day, he's just sitting in the library cafe, doing his homework like the good student he is on occasion when she suddenly appears.

"Hi," she says and sits down at his table.

"Hi," he replies, awkwardly, pausing his reading.

Percy flicks his gaze upwards and immediately regrets it as he meets hers and is taken back to that night and the way she fit so perfectly against his body and the sarcastic curve of her lips and the venom that no longer laced her remarks—

She stares him expectantly, and Percy is half tempted to leap forward and—and—well, he isn't sure what he'd do really. He wants to kiss her because... duh—but he also wants to yell at her, to take her by the shoulders and just shake her because, again, duh.

"Is it interesting?" she questions, timidly gesturing to the textbook lying before him.

"Fucking riveting," he drawls in retort. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, his brow raised in question.

She smiles, biting her lip behind the expression, and takes a sip of the drink in her hand, seemingly only to avoid speaking as she winces when the beverage meets her tongue.

"What do you want?" he asks bluntly, and at the slight trepidation that flits across her features, he wonders if he should have sugarcoated the question. But then _no_ , he decides, remembering the way she spoke to him that morning, weeks ago, her words ice that cut through the lingering warmth.

"Um," she swallows thickly, her gaze darting around the room, avoiding his in a manner so painfully obvious he can't help but roll his eyes.

"Are you stalking me?" he questions, mimicking her own accusatory tone.

"No," she snaps, meeting his eyes finally and inhaling sharply at the sight.

He grins, perhaps she's not as immune to him as she'd like to believe, as he's believed her to be.

"Of course not," she scoffs derivatively, looking thoroughly off-put.

"Why are you here?" he asks, quickly growing tired of her confusing attitude, not tired as much as exhausted. He's fucking exhausted.

She's exhausting.

"Because," Annabeth says with a sniff, "I need to study."

Percy shakes his head. "No," he deadtones. "Not at this cafe, here, at this table, sitting in front of me, stumbling on your words."

"I am not—" she cuts herself off, noting his small smirk at her expense. "This is my favorite table," she claims, her words overly crisp.

"Sure," he remarks sarcastically.

"It is," she insists, her lips pulled into a tight line.

"Fine," Percy concedes. "I suppose I'll leave you to it then."

He gathers his textbook and notepad and shoves them into his bag, toying unnecessarily with the buttons of his baggage, waiting for a final comment, for a last word, for anything.

She remains silent, though her lips are slightly parted as if on the brink of realization, of desperation, he isn't sure. It doesn't matter because she's silent as he stands and bids her with the briefest of smiles.

It doesn't matter because she lets him leave.

OoOoO

(2:02 pm) **what does it mean when someone tells u to stop stalking them but then shows up randomly**

(2:02 om) **like theyre stalking u now**

OoOoO

"Percy," he hears faintly behind him and he doesn't turn because he's 99.7% sure he's imagining it.

"Percy!" he hears again. It's louder this time, more urgent. So he pivots slowly on the back of his heel and sees her. She's jogging towards him, her skin tinted from the cold and her lips winter wet. Her uneven breath is spilling into the air still separating them, creating small clouds of condensation that rapidly dissipates as she nears.

He says nothing, is silent as she was.

"You—uh," she begins, her words catching in her throat for some inexplicable reason. "You forgot this," she supplies quickly, reaching into her bag and shoving a small book in Percy's arms.

"This isn't mine," he blinks.

"Oh," she pretends to look surprised, but the facade is so transparent Percy is tempted to laugh. "Oops." She takes the book back and places it in her bag before glancing up at him again.

"Seriously?" he drawls, tilting his head to the side as he considers her, purposely averting his gaze from her thoroughly worried bottom lip. "Oops?"

"Well forgive me for trying to be considerate," she scowls. "Next time I'll just leave your potentially prized possession—"

"Potentially prized possession?" Percy repeats back to her, incredulity in his eyes.

"—at the table and allow the thieves and hooligans of the world to—"

"Hooligans? Jesus, are you from the 16th fucking century?"

"—steal your prized possession that your—"

"I'm leaving," he states firmly and turns, leaving her arguing with herself.

"—deceased mother gifted you before her untimely death and—wait, Percy!"

He ignores her. She's done it to him enough for it to be justified, anyway.

"Percy!" she yells, again, and, this time, there's a note of despair, of madness, of suffering, of something so fucking profound that he stops.

She comes to stand in front of him and in her eyes he sees a twinge, a smidgen, a fucking microscopic shred of understanding, of the ache eating up at him for almost two fucking weeks now and it's a fucking relief because maybe, just maybe, he's not completely fucking insane.

"What?" he permits, his words so quiet they are caught in her movements as she reaches forward and tugs his head down to hers, their mouths meeting in a clash of understanding and loathing and warmth and everything he'd imagined another kiss would be.

"I'm not good with boys," she admits breathlessly, her nose sliding against his as they pull away for an unending second.

"I can tell," he mouths against her lips, reveling in her hum of contentment when he latches back on.

 _She's exhausting_ , he inwardly reaffirms, but fuck if she isn't worth it.

OoOoO

(2:04 pm) wtf

(2:04 pm) r u stalking someone?

(2:04 pm) bc like

(2:04 pm) hate to break it to u but not okay bro

(2:26 pm) percy

(2:26 pm) ?

(2:26 pm) pls answer

(2:31 pm) **no one is stalking anyone**

(2:31 pm) **its good**

(2:31 pm) **me and the stalker worked it out**

(2:35 pm) wtf

OoOoO

"This shouldn't happen again," Annabeth tells him, her fingers tugging at the seam of his sweatshirt.

"Shouldn't?" he asks, growling as he throws her against the closed door.

"Won't," she amends, sighing when his head dips to her neck and his lips meet the delicate skin.

He finds he quite likes her sighs now.

OoOoO

(4:56 am) **guess who just got a extension on his history paper**

(4:56 am) **percy jackson**

(4:56 am) **that's who**

(5:03 am) why r up?

(5:04 am) **why r U up?**

(5:05 am) i got the morning shift at work

(5:05 am) whats ur excuse?

(5:07 am) **i got an extension on my history paper**

(5:07 am) thats highly irresponsible

(5:08 am) **whatever**

(5:08 am) **live while youre y** **oung and all that right?**

(5:10 am) idk

(5:10 am) seems like a reckless sentiment

(5:10 am) **anyway**

(5:11 am) **whats up w u?**

(5:15 am) go to bed

(5:16 am) **no**

(5:16 am) **fight me**

(5:16 am) **cash me ousside how bow dah**

(5:35 am) stop

OoOoO

 _It won't happen again_ , he's heard it more times than he can count—no, who is he kidding? He can always count. That's his strength, after all—she's said it exactly 12 times since they've met.

"It won't happen again," she breathes as she pushes him out her dorm, claiming her roommate will be back soon.

But then it does. And Percy is confused because _I_ _don't have time for this shit Percy_ and _I_ _can't handle a relationship right now_ and _I am_ _barely managing my courseload as it is_ but then she texts him every night.

 _Come over?_

It's a booty call, _he's_ a booty call. He knows, but he doesn't care.

But soon it becomes more than that, and he's even more confused because _this isn't a relationship, Percy_ and _don't delude yourself, Percy_ —but her actions ring eerily similar to those cheesy romcoms he won't admit he loves.

She peppers sloppy kisses on his face every morning, minutes before the alarm goes off, and she berates him on his unhealthy eating habits, and she brings him NyQuil and tissues when he's sick, and she proofreads his American History paper, teasing him over his incorrect usage of the word tortious. She sends him words of encouragement before his midterm and kisses him soundly when he announces he aced it. She replaces his cheap cheez-its with healthy cheddar bunnies, arguing it's for her own benefit. She leaves books upon books upon books in his room until he politely requests she stop out of fear his dresser will collapse. She steals his sweatshirt and claims it's because her dorm is cold. She buys him blue cupcakes for his half birthday and helps him organize his notes after nearly choking at the sight of his American Literature notebook.

It's a conundrum—

She's a conundrum.

And _mine_ he growls as her perfect cunt tightens around him, and _yours_ she agrees—but she won't let him pay for dinner, _ever_ , and she refuses to hear any pet names.

 _M_ _y heart is not sweet_ , she says.

 _I'm not your pet, not your love,_ she insists.

 _I'm not a baby, Percy. I'm a fucking adult_ , she bites.

He doesn't mind, as long as she whimpers _Percy_ the way he adores—her nails digging into his skin as his teeth skim her skin—he'll call her whatever she likes.

It's fun—

She's fun.

She laughs loudly at his ridiculous impressions and likes to commentate as he goes about his daily tasks - _he is now opening the tuna at an impressive speed._ She likes to turn up her music when she drives, involuntarily dancing behind the wheel. She is surprisingly light-hearted. She understands his sarcastic remarks and matches his wit. She watches John Oliver religiously and can't help but dance at the intro, her shoulder bobbing adorably. She watches the same sitcom for the umpteenth time, laughing before the punchlines because what's coming is _so funny Percy, watch Percy._ She insists they try new food whenever they eat out and despises it when he makes a mess but rolls her eyes and averts her gaze, hiding her begrudging smile with a delicate purse of her lips—

But then the waitress refers to Annabeth as his girlfriend and he doesn't bother to correct her because he's not about to delve into the complicated agreement they set ages ago while seated in a fucking diner and his not-girlfriend-but-kind-of-his-girlfriend goes silent, her eye widening and her mouth going dry.

"You should have said something, Percy," she argues in the car. "You should have—"

"You're being totally ridiculous," he maintains, his fingers tightening around the leather of the wheel.

They don't talk for a week after that.

It's painful—

She's painful.

She refuses to admit she's wrong, says she's only ever being reasonable. She never cries, only scrunches her face up with an angry expression before storming out. She always comes back and sometimes it's only a few hours but sometimes its days, fucking _days_ , and Percy wants to hug her, to pull her into his arms and smother her when she returns, but he's impassive, cool, collected, because he thinks that's what she wants. Sometimes she doesn't let him stay the night, she kicks him out before her roommate shows up. She rejects any and all attempts to meet his friends. She refuses to introduce him to hers. She won't tell Piper, says it'll become too complicated, claims Piper won't understand their casual relationship. Says she's compartmentalizing.

Compartmentalizing.

He hears that word a lot these days.

She sneaks him around. He's her secret, her guilty pleasure. She acts like she's embarrassed by him and it fucking hurts, a lot.

But sometimes, when she thinks he isn't looking, he catches the wistful smile that graces her lips and the proud look that flickers in her eyes.

And _that_ expression—the minuscule shift in her facial features when she looks at him—makes all the pain and all the hurt and all the questioning and confusion worth it. And that makes it hurt even more, exponentially more, because _fuck fuck fuck_ he wants more, so much more—

And, fuck, it's dangerous because it wasn't supposed to be serious—

And _she's_ dangerous because it _isn't_ serious, but _he is_ , whether he wants to be or not, he's fucking addicted. He's addicted to her smell, to the taste of her, to her presence, to the way she makes him feel.

He's addicted to _her_ , and he knows, with a certainty far beyond him—and wonders if he knew to some degree then too—that he was irreversibly fucked the day he met her, since his first taste of the modernized madness Piper likes to refer to as love.

"Fuck," Percy sighs in resignation—he does that a lot these days—as she subconsciously nuzzles her face into the curve of his neck, a tired exhale escaping her lips, seeping into his skin, into his fucking soul, marking him for life. "Damn it."

* * *

a/n: so yeah, idk how I feel about the ending of this. I considered ending with 'so much more' bc it has a nicer ring to it, but oh well. What do ya'll think? I know it kind of took me a while to update but, if I'm being honest, my nails were hella long and I just don't like to type with them so long, I always fuck up and it's irritating. But I had to cut them for piano anyway so I'm back.

p.s. updates: FB - will be out soon, it's with my beta now. HE - it's a slow process bc it's one of the last chapters (maybe the last *wiggles eyebrows mysteriously*) so I want it to be really good. DL - I literally just finished this instead of doing my homework like a logical human being so, I estimate a four to seven days? expect the wait of like regularly shipping.

lol bye


	5. Chapter 5

disclaimer: nah

* * *

Annabeth

"Fuck off," he mutters into the pillow, and Annabeth can't help but laugh, her fingers digging into his biceps.

"C'mon, Percy," she giggles. "Wake up! I want a bagel."

"So go get a bagel," he tells her, his voice muffled by the fabric.

"But Percyyy," she sings, her heart swelling the slightest degree at the small smile that flitters across his lips. "I want a bagel _and_ a hunk."

The dark haired boy turns slowly towards her, meeting her eyes in a morning daze.

"Did you just call me a hunk?" he asks, his eye shining with incredulity.

"No," Annabeth lies, pressing her lips together and glancing away guilty. "I called you a bunk, as in a bumpkin. A Pumpkin bumpkin."

"Nice cover," he drawls, reaching forward and tugging her into his arms.

"Don't you have class?" Annabeth questions breathlessly as he drags his lips across the angles of her collarbone.

"Not until later," he replies. Her fingers grasp his chin, drawing his mouth up to hers.

"You're lucky Piper is out of town," she says without thinking as her nose slides against his and feels her heart stutter at the hurt that flashes across his blue-green irises.

She doesn't show it, knows she can't.

OoOoO

(2:30 pm) did u read hamlet?

(2:35 pm) annabeth

(2:35 pm) annabeth

(2:35 pm) yo

(2:36 pm) yo

(2:36 pm) answer

(2:36 pm) **omg what?**

(2:36 pm) did u read hamlet?

(2:37 pm) **no y?**

(2:37 pm) fuck

(2:37 pm) its fine

(2:37 pm) my essay is just due tomorrow and i didnt read

(2:38 pm) cool

(2:38 pm) im fucked

(2:38 pm) whatever tho

(2:38 pm) ill just die, ya know?

(2:38 pm) **lol ur exaggerating**

(2:40 pm) guess we will see

(2:40 pm) see u in the afterlife

(2:41 pm) **lol k**

OoOoO

"You know bread is bad for them, right?" Annabeth points out as she approaches him, holding two cups of steaming coffee in her hands.

"On some level," Percy shrugs, tossing another shred of bread into the swarm of ducks.

"Why do you do it then?" the blonde laughs. She steps forward to join him but finds a surprisingly aggressive bird standing in her way, refusing to move.

"Becuase," Percy begins, noting her dilemma and throwing the rest of his slice in the opposite direction. "It's tradition," he says finally, moving towards her now that the obstruction is gone. "My mother would always take me to feed the ducks in central park when I felt down."

"You feel down?" Annabeth frowns, handing him his cup of coffee as he disposed of the last of his bread.

"Mh," he hums, shrugging again. "Seasonal affective disorder."

"It's almost 70 degrees out," Annabeth tilts her head, smiling softly as the wind tussles the curls peeking out from behind her ears. "What more do you want?"

"I don't know," Percy shakes his head, unthinkingly mirroring her expression. "Something feels off."

"Oh," Annabeth offers. "Is—" she begins but bites her tongue, swallowing _there anything I can do_ , because _no_ , Annabeth, he's not your boyfriend.

She can't help but lean into him though, dropping her head onto his shoulder, inhaling sharply at the warm sigh of luxury that sweeps across her cheekbones.

"Your mother sounds nice," she whispers and her words no longer form clouds. It's warm now. Almost summer. She dreads what that will mean.

"She was," Percy agrees.

Annabeth shuts her eyes, breathing in his scent, realizing—and wondering if he too knows—just how little time they have left.

OoOoO

(10:56 pm) where r u?

(10:59 pm) **library**

(10:59 pm) **y?**

(11:00 pm) i want nachos

(11:01 pm) but i need cheese

(11:01 pm) and also chips

(11:01 pm) **k?**

(11:02 pm) im gonna go to the store

(11:02 pm) do u want anything

(11:07 pm) **no its fine**

(11:20 pm) r u still in the lib?

(11:26 pm) **yes**

(11:27 pm) what floor?

(11:29 pm) **y?**

(11:31 pm) bc i forgot my bio stuff at jasons so hes just gonna give it to u

(11:36 pm) adonde estas?

(11:38 pm) **sorry i left the lib**

(11:40 pm) wtf

(11:40 pm) why would u do that?

(11:42 pm) **i forgot my spanish stuff in the dorm so i went back**

(11:43 pm) can u pls go back?

(11:43 pm) jason is there and looking for u

(11:50 pm) **sorry im already back at the dorm**

(11:51 pm) ugh

(11:51 pm) fine

(11:51 pm) ill tell him to go there then

(11:53 pm) **no sorry**

(11:53 pm) **im going to lib once i get my stuff**

(11:54 pm) okay

(11:54 pm) ill just tell him to wait there then

(11:54 pm) how long do u think youll take?

(11:55 pm) **no**

(11:55 pm) **im not going back to the lit library**

(11:55 pm) **im going to the science one**

(11:55 pm) omg

(11:55 pm) just wait ten min at the dorm

(11:55 pm) hell be there soon

(11:56 pm) then u can go

(11:58 pm) **sorry i cant**

(11:58 pm) **i have so so so much work to do**

(12:00 am) annabeth wtf

(12:00 am) ur acting so sus rn

(12:00 am) ur acting fucking crazy

(12:00 am) r u okay?

(12:04 am) **ur overreacting**

(12:04 am) **im fine**

(12:04 am) uh

(12:04 am) no

(12:04 am) ur being weird

(12:04 am) whats wrong

(12:05 am) r u good?

(12:05 am) r u being held hostage?

(12:05 am) omg annabeth

(12:05 am) fuck

(12:05 am) r u kidnapped?

(12:05 am) ?

(12:05 am) say the special word if u ARENT kidnapped

(12:07 am) **omfg**

(12:07 am) **peacock**

(12:07 am) thank god

(12:07 am) **calm down**

(12:08 am) **i havent been kidnapped**

(12:08 am) **i just have a lot of chem hw to do**

(12:10 am) r u sure?

(12:10 am) bc ur being hella weird

(12:10 am) **im fine**

(12:10 am) **promise**

(2:31 am) why r u not home?

(2:31 am) the lib closed at 2

OoOoO

"Percy," Annabeth gasps as he steals the strangled breath from her with a searing kiss.

"Fuck," he murmurs against her mouth.

 _Annabeth_ , she tastes, and _yes_ and _you feel so fucking good_ —the mutterings of a seeming madman give her life, they light her up, make her nerves fly, and her heart fucking soar as she climaxes on the repeated syllable of his name, the intoxicating flavor of it never leaving her lips.

She wonders if it ever will, worries it _never_ will.

OoOoO

(1:30 pm) where r u?

(1:31 pm) **the lib**

(1:31 pm) could u check out pride and prejudice for me?

(1:32 pm) **sure**

(1:38 pm) **sorry dude**

(1:38 pm) **they're out**

(1:44 pm) fine

(1:44 pm) can u come back to the dorm?

(1:44 pm) i have to show u something

(1:47 pm) **sorry cant**

(1:47 pm) **too much hw**

(1:50 pm) k

(1:50 pm) ill go to the lib then

(1:52 pm) **whats so important u have to come here?**

(1:53 pm) guess youll find out

(1:53 pm) **cant u just send me a picture**

(1:53 pm) no

(1:55 pm) **omg** **im soo sorry**

(1:55 pm) **i just realized i have to talk to my chem teacher**

(1:55 pm) **i have to go**

(1:55 pm) **u can just show me later tonight**

(2:00 pm) HA

(2:00 pm) HA

(2:00 pm) HA

(2:00 pm) I HAVE CAUGHT U RED HANDED

(2:00 pm) I JUST SHERLOCK HOLMED THIS BITCH

(2:00 pm) I JUST NANCY DREWED THE SHIT OUT OF IT

(2:00 pm) I JUST FUCKING MYSTERY GANGED THIS MYSTERY

(2:00 pm) IM AS SMART AT FREDDIE AND STYLISH AS DAPHNE

(2:01 pm) SMART AS VELMA**

(2:01 pm) FREDDIE WASNT ACTUALLY THAT SMART

(2:01 pm) HE WAS ALWAYS TELLING THEM TO SPLIT UP

(2:01 pm) NOT A SMART MOVE

(2:01 pm) HE WAS ONLY IN CHARGE BC OF GENDER ROLES ANYWAY

(2:01 pm) DOESNT MATTER

(2:01 pm) BC I JUST CAUGHT U RED HANDED BITCH

(2:02 pm) Y R U LYING TO ME?

(2:04 pm) **wtf**

(2:04 pm) **calm down**

(2:04 pm) **what r u talking about**

(2:04 pm) ur not in the library

(2:04 pm) my friend is working there and says she hasnt seen u all day

(2:05 pm) **thats not exactly solid evidence**

(2:06 pm) its only a piece of the pie

(2:06 pm) **thats just not the right saying**

(2:06 pm) u better sit down bc im about to blow this bitch up

(2:06 pm) **k u really need to calm down**

(2:07 pm) youve been acting so fucking weird for the last month

(2:07 pm) for a while rly

(2:07 pm) **no i havent**

(2:08 pm) SILENCE PEASANT

(2:08 pm) **wow**

(2:08 pm) **and u think IM acting weird**

(2:09 pm) that was just clue one

(2:09 pm) yesterday i found a sweatshirt in ur laundry

(2:09 pm) **wtf**

(2:09 pm) **y were u going thru my laundry?**

(2:15 pm) and it was a BOYS sweatshirt. And u always disappear at night and say ur in the library or doing hw somewhere super sus and u always make up dumb sketchy excuses about why i cant come and u totally smelled like sex last night and like u glow sometimes and idk but im pretty sure thats the aftersex glow everyones always going on about. Also last sunday u told me u were w ur soc study group but then Casey texted me and asked me to hang out and when i asked her why she wasnt studying with u guys she said there was no study group that week. and tuesday i found a pair of fucking boxers in ur underwear drawer and the day after i found a book of optical illusions in ur bed and i fucking know u hate optical illusions bc they mess with ur brain or whatever. and then, the final straw was when i found a box of condoms in the bottom of ur drawer and there were only TWO LEFT. like youd already used the whole box and hadnt boxered to tell me who u were fucking

(2:15 pm) so yeah

(2:15 pm) call me blues fucking clues bc i just solved the fuck out of that case

(2:15 pm) but more importantly

(2:15 pm) explain urself

(2:17 pm) !

(2:17 pm) WHAT DO U HAVE TO SAY FOR URSELF?

(2:17 pm) **omg calm down**

(2:17 pm) **im still reading that fucking novel u wrote**

(2:19 pm) **wtf**

(2:19 pm) **have u been going thru my stuff?**

(2:20 pm) i wanted to see if u were hiding something

(2:20 pm) i thought u might be tweaking

(2:21 pm) **jesus piper**

(2:21 pm) **i dont have to tell u every detail of my fucking life**

(2:22 pm) but i tell u everything

(2:22 pm) **i didnt ask u to do that!**

(2:22 pm) fine

(2:22 pm) sorry

(2:23 pm) i didnt realize that was how u felt

(2:23 pm) dont tell me

(2:23 pm) i wont burden u w the stories of my life anymore

(2:24 pm) **fuck piper**

(2:24 pm) **im sorry**

(2:24 pm) **it was an intrusion of privacy tho**

(2:24 pm) **i said im sorry**

(2:24 pm) **i still want to be best friends**

(2:26 pm) **piper?**

(2:26 pm) **fuck**

OoOoO

Annabeth isn't sure why she does it—she speculates it's her self-destructive streak, or maybe she simply realizes the reality of their situation and the impending deadline racing towards them—but she does it nonetheless.

"Hey," he says when she opens the door. "How are you?"

"Good," Annabeth supplies with a warm expression, allowing him in. "Piper is gone for the weekend," she tells him, not _Piper knows_ or _what do we do now_ or _is this real?_

"I brought popcorn," he informs her, quickly moving past her prior comment.

"I'll get a bowl," she assures but only makes it two steps towards the kitchenette before she feels a pair of hands grip her waist, pulling her back. Percy presses a hard kiss to her lips, feeling them curve under his.

"That reminds me," Percy whispers as they pull apart. "I got you something."

"What?" Annabeth frowns, reaching for a blue plastic bowl, thinking she might have heard him wrong.

"One sec," he says and rummages through his messy bag, looking for something.

She sits back on the bed, feeling a torturous ache seep into her chest cavity, threatening to suffocate her.

"Here," he offers finally, holding out a book. She takes it from him and reads the title: _Istanbul 1900: Art-nouveau Architecture and Interiors_. "That's your favorite style, right?" he wonders out loud.

"Yes," Annabeth mutters, running her fingers over the soft paperback cover, tracing the embossed title. "How—"

"You mentioned it," Percy smiles as if it were obvious. "Last week at that dark museum."

"Thanks," she grants, delicately placing it on her bedside table, unsure of what to do with her hands now that they're free.

"C'mon," Percy eyes her, furrowing his brows at her odd behavior. "Let's watch the Daily Show." He wraps his strong arm around her shoulder, drawing her into his warm embrace as he maneuvers them onto her bed.

And maybe it's the gift he so thoughtfully procured for no reason whatsoever, or maybe it's the fact that he listened to her—really truly fucking _listened_ to her—and didn't tune out her infromative rants like so many others, or maybe it's the tender way he's holding her—like she's an expensive figure of refined glass that he just can't help touching—or maybe it's the unnatural way her heart swells when he smiles at her, or maybe it's the fact that he doesn't even _like_ the Daily Show but watches it because it was a compromise—

But things are suddenly good, _too_ good. And _too_ good is bad because people get hurt when things are _too_ good—and she suddenly feels a need to fuck it up, to say something to eradicate any inkling of love beginning to blossom—not blossom, but rather consume her—not an inkling, rather a fucking shitload.

So Annabeth does what she does best, she fucks it up, hoping to exterminate the shitload of love beginning to consume her.

"Luke asked me on a date," she says.

He chokes.

"Excuse me?" he questions, turning towards her, confusion written into the lines of his forehead.

"Luke asked me on a date," she repeats, her tone dead, stripped of passion.

"And?" Percy blinks rapidly, trying to keep up with the unraveling situation.

"And I wanted you to know I said yes," she lies.

"Why?" Percy demands, the tv becoming wholly background static as his eyes bore into her.

"I can do whatever I want, Percy," she insists, quickly becoming irrationally angry, needing to force her control over something, anything.

"Goddamn it!" he hisses gruffly, his fingers curling into a tight fist and digging into her bedspread.

She parts her lips to argue but he beats her to it.

"Goddamn it, Annabeth," he exclaims loudly, angrily, surprising her. "Why would you say that to me?"

She is silent, watching his lips form bitter words, noting his glossy eyes and knowing - or rather hoping, pleading to the fucking gods - that she was making the right decision.

"Why would you say that? You know I care about you. You knew that would hurt me. Don't you fucking care? Don't you give a single fuck about my emotions? about me?"

He stands up, his mouth still moving. His words are weapons, every syllable a harsh bullet, tearing through her tough exterior.

He picks up his bag, throws on his jacket, his lips never stop moving.

 _They way they hold you tells you everything_ , Piper used to say.

 _No_ , Annabeth had disagreed, _the way they leave you,_ that _tells you the truth_.

He reaches the door, swings it open. His lips finally halt their movements.

 _Pessimistic_ , Piper had rolled her eyes.

 _Realistic_ , Annabeth had countered.

"I fucking love you," he rasps. His voice is hushed and hoarse and pained and -

And—

And—

And she feels the air leave her lungs. She feels the floor disappear from underneath her, the world fall into disarray around her. She feels the earth stop spinning and her limbs begin to shake, to tremble on their own volition.

She slams the door and sobs, wholly consumed.

* * *

a/n: yeah, yeah, I know sometimes my stories are a bummer at times but I, for some strange reason, enjoy writing angsty scenes exponentially more than fluffy happy ones.

updates: everything soonish. My ee rough draft is due tomorrow so I have to deal with that and I know that along with everything else is going to consume my life for the rest of the week. Who knows tho, maybe it'll make me procrastinate and write even more.

I know I was switching off povs but I think I'm gonna continue with Annabeth next chapter bc I think she's a bit underdeveloped personality wise. idk, I also think it's a more interesting perspective on the break.

drop me a review, even if it says "cool beans". it makes me happy regardless.

anyway, c y'all l8r, ciao.


	6. Chapter 6

Annabeth

It shouldn't hurt, but it does.

She hurts.

She remembers, and the memories pain her. And sometimes they're paper cuts stinging her extremities, but other times they're sharp shards digging into her skin, gutting her from inside out.

He's nowhere, Percy, but she still sees him.

Everywhere.

A skateboarder skids along the sidewalk beside her and the mere sound takes her back to one warm night, when she'd finally caved and agreed to try it only to fall, his hand on her waist, saving her from the scape.

 _I told you I wouldn't let you go,_ he'd told her, a spirited grin lighting up his face.

The young cashier asks if she'd like a bag and she remembers a cool April morning, when Percy had insisted on trekking up the hill back to her dorm with her groceries in hand instead of getting in her car.

 _Get in_ , Annabeth had pleaded, following alongside him in her car.

 _It's nice out_ , he had maintained, carefully balancing the apples she'd purchased.

The girl standing in front of her in line orders her coffee and she recalls the copious amount of sugar Percy required.

 _What's the point of drinking it if I don't enjoy it?_ he'd shrugged.

 _You're ridiculous_ , she had replied, shaking her head.

 _You love it_.

"What can I get you today, miss?" the barista asks, interrupting her thoughts.

"What?" Annabeth responds breathlessly, her eyes flicking to meet his.

"What would you like?" he reiterates, watching her expectantly.

"Nothing," the blonde shakes her head. Her twitching fingers tighten her coat around her torso. She steps out of the line, ignoring the look she receives and hurries out of the cafe.

OoOoO

(7:03 pm) im at the store

(7:03 pm) do u want anything?

(7:05 pm) **no**

OoOoO

And if the everyday occurrences plaguing her aren't enough, the color blue has somehow managed to drown her.

It's blue. It's everywhere—it's a fucking color, of course, it's everywhere.

It's just a color, but Gods it makes her angry. It was her favorite color once, now she despises it. It makes her blood boil and her mind run rampant. She's tempted to burn her jeans, to throw away a fourth of her books, to tear apart her favorite pillow.

But she doesn't. Because she isn't mad, isn't angry, not really, not with him anyway.

"Fuck," she breathes, her gaze catching the sweatshirt she stole from him ages ago. It's peeking out from under her bed, a navy blue sleeve wrapped around the wooden leg.

"Fuck," she repeats. Her knees buckle and she falls to the floor, her fingers grasping at the soft fabric hiding beneath her bed.

That's how Piper finds her: with her knees tucked into her chest and slow tears clearing her cheeks. Her fingers are wrapped around his sweatshirt, holding it close, close enough to mimic his presence but not enough to allow her to forget.

"Annabeth," the brunette says softly, gently dropping her bag to the floor and shutting the door behind her. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"It hurts," Annabeth supplies inaudibly.

"I know," Piper comforts, dropping to her knees to join her friend. "I know it hurts." She wraps her arms around the blonde. "It'll get better."

"No—" Annabeth sniffles. "It wasn't supposed to hurt. Not like this, not this much."

And that's the problem.

The loss hurts more than she had anticipated, more than she had imagined possible.

OoOoO

(10:34 am) how did ur test go?

(10:38 am) **well**

(10:39 am) dont eat

(10:39 am) im taking you out to breakfast

(10:41 am) **i already ate**

(10:43 am) please

(10:44 am) **okay**

(10:44 am) i love u

(11:01 pm) **love u too**

OoOoO

She recovers—or at least tries to.

Annabeth forces herself to see in the good in her situation. She throws herself into work, into school, into anything that might distract her. Luckily, Piper is more than happy to serve as a distraction. The kind brunette insists on brunch and movies and adventures and road trips, all to make her feel better. Annabeth feels blessed to have such a friend, to have someone who cares so much for her, who _loves_ her _._

So why isn't it enough?

OoOoO

(5:59 pm) **r u ready?**

(6:01 pm) yes

(6:01 pm) just waiting now

(6:02 pm) **itll go great**

(6:02 pm) **u need to forget about ur break up for the night**

OoOoO

"So why did you finally agree to go out with me?" Luke asks from across the table as the waiter walks away with their menus.

"I—" Annabeth thinks for a minute, presses her lips together in pause. "I suppose I'm just ready to pursue someone—romantically I mean."

"Of course," he grins, taking a sip of his soda. His icy eyes flick up to hers and in their lacking, she is reminded of Percy, of his enchanting gaze.

"How has your day been—" the blonde begins politely, averting her gaze to droplets of cool condensation dripping down the side of her glass.

"That is neither here nor there," he decides with a dismissive wave of his hand and just as she is about to object, struck by his apathy, he continues. "I want to know more about you."

"Well—"

"I haven't spoken to you since we met over spring break." He takes another sip of his drink as his date purses her lips over clenched teeth. "What have you been up to since then."

"Well," Annabeth states soundly, "as I was going to say, I am very interested in international policymaking. Right now, I'm interning at the mayor's office. It's been an incredibly rewarding experience. Every single day I'm there I get to meet with dignitaries and—"

"I've heard you enjoy history." He says, seemingly out of the blue. "How so?"

"Excuse me?" she clarifies, hoping he hasn't just asked her to justify her interest in history, _fucking history_ , quite possibly the broadest of all subjects.

"I said how so, as in 'what?'"

Annabeth blinks.

OoOoO

(7:10 pm) hows it going

(7:39 pm) **this was a mistake**

OoOoO

"I don't understand," Piper ventures, sitting herself on Annabeth's bed so that the blonde cannot go directly to bed as she'd previously planned to. "It seems like a perfectly average date."

"It wasn't catastrophic," Annabeth explains. "There was no grand disaster." The blonde licks her lips and sits next to her roommate. "But the devil is in the details, and his revealed another side I had no interest in pursuing."

"What do you mean?" the brunette queries, biting her lip.

"Trust me," Annabeth managed a small smile that didn't meet her eyes. "It wouldn't be a successful relationship."

"But—"

"No buts," Annabeth remarks, sternly, dragging her hands down her face in fatigue. "Besides, I don't know why I'm looking for a rebound in the first place. I didn't even like him. We weren't even dating."

"Is this when you finally tell me who this mystery boy is?" Piper inquires softly, wrapping her arms around her friend.

"No." The blonde shakes her head. "Never."

"But—"

"He's in the past now." She swallows hard, avoids a subtle sob that threatens to choke her, seemingly unable to stomach her own words. "He doesn't matter anymore."

Or so she says.

OoOoO

(6:23 pm) r u coming?

(6:27 pm) **b there soon**

(6:28 pm) hurry tf up

(6:28 pm) we're all waiting

(6:30 pm) **so go without me**

(6:30 pm) **i dont even want to go**

(6:33 pm) u PROMISED!

(6:36 pm) **coming**

OoOoO

The sun is out and the white clouds have washed away any trace of rain. It's not summer, not quite, not yet. But just kissing the seams.

"You look great!" Piper exclaims.

It's almost summer now. The thought runs through the blondes head more than she can bear. Whenever the sun kisses her skin, whenever her eyes hurt from the light, whenever sky shines bright cerulean.

It's almost summer now—

Like a broken record.

"C'mon," Piper pushes her into the crowd. "I told you I had a surprise."

"Mh," Annabeth hums.

She's better now. She doesn't care anymore. She's cried his name so many times she's numb. It doesn't affect her anymore.

He's in her past. He was holding her back, anyway. He was distracting her. He was wasting her time. He was messing with her five-year plane. He was fucking up her life. He was infuriating. He was frustrating. He was smart. He was fun. He was _hers_ —Per—

She winces and swallows it down. It burns her tongue, scorches her esophagus, eats her from the inside out as it goes down.

She can't say his name, can't even think it. No matter what she tries to tell herself.

"I know you weren't too excited about tonight," Piper rushes. "But I planned you a night you would absolutely approve of."

"What of?" Annabeth inquires, trying to leave her troubling thoughts behind.

"Well," Piper reveals excitedly. "I got us reservations at that little Italian place you love and there are more surprises for you when we get home."

"But I just left," Annabeth thought out loud. "How—"

"I told Jason you were feeling a bit under the weather and he agreed to help set up a spectacular night."

"Hm," Annabeth hums again, the name reminding her of a certain a pair of green eyes.

"Let's go!" Piper cheers, clearly trying to alleviate her friend's distress.

"Let's go," Annabeth repeats in agreement, deciding to play along for her friend's benefit. And who knew, perhaps it would help her heal as well.

OoOoO

(7:15 pm) **what r u** **doing?**

(7:15 pm) ?

(7:15 pm) peeing

(7:16 pm) **no**

(7:16 pm) **youve been in there for wayyy too long**

(7:16 pm) **normal bathroom activity** **is no longer a believable excuse**

(7:17 pm) sorry

(7:18 pm) surprise mishap

(7:18 pm) coming

OoOoO

"So," Piper grins, her excitement bubbling into her voice. "What do you think?"

"You planned the perfect night," Annabeth assures her, staring down at the pile of romcoms and the bottle of white wine. She bends down and picks up the first movie: _The Proposal_.

"I know I always get mad at you for criticizing how unrealistic the movies are, but I thought maybe tonight we could do that together. And—" the brunette cuts herself off, reaching behind the kitchen counter and retrieving slips of paper. "I even made romcom bingo!"

Annabeth takes one from her friend and glances at the boxes. _Miraculous Makeover_ , _Mistaken Identity, Last Minute Chase_. They're quite clever.

"I realize it may be a bit insensitive to show you romcoms in the aftermath of a mysterious breakup," Piper blurts out suddenly. "So I also bought a copy of _Teeth_ and _The Human Centipede_. We can watch those if you want," she rambles. "Though, full disclosure, I will most likely cry and/or laugh hysterically at the scary parts - "

"Piper," Annabeth cuts her off with a smile. "Thank you," she says, the level of her appreciation unable to be fully expressed. "For everything."

"It's no problem," Piper replies sheepishly. "It's what friends do."

"No, it's not," Annabeth shakes her head. "It's what _you_ do." She can't have asked for a better friend, a more caring or self-sacrificing friend.

They exchange a meaningful look before sitting down on the bed and loading the first movie. Annabeth hugs her friend as the brunette pours her a glass of sparkling wine, far past grateful.

The night begins relatively well, especially considering the cinematic focus on romance. She supposes it's a perfect combination of wine and comedy that numbs the pain. But then the scales shift and she's a touch of wine too far. That's when the night goes downhill.

She takes the fateful sip of her white wine before exclaiming loudly, wordlessly as wine still fizzles on her tongue, at the cliche she's caught. She points to the _Protagonist tries on a Bunch of Clothes_ square with her marker.

She swallows and marks the spot. As she does, her eyes flash over _"no strings" relationship_ and she freezes. She manages to choke on nothing and is suddenly in desperate need of another sip of wine. So she takes one. Then her eyes spot another one. She doesn't know how she didn't see them before, how she didn't notice the entire length of her relationship had been littered with cliches.

They'd had a meet-cute. Kind of anyway. She'd hated him at first, really detested his smug attitude, but that had morphed into... well, she wasn't so sure anymore. She likes him— _liked_ him—but god this ache hurt a lot more than a fucking crush. Crushes didn't cause her chest to compress and the breath to leave her lungs with just a look.

"Another one," Piper says loudly, impersonating DJ Kalid with a purse of her lips. "Protagonist needs balance in their life," she discloses. She doesn't turn around, doesn't glance at Annabeth.

The blonde is grateful, or not. She's not sure. If Piper had turned around she would have seen her quite possible having a breakdown.

She's glad, she decides. Her friend doesn't need to see her in this state. She needs to flush out her issues on her own.

"Fuck," she mutters as she processes her friend's words. She uncaps her marker with her mouth and thoughtlessly colors in a square, considering the cliche in her own life.

Had she needed balance? No, not really, maybe. Okay, yes. She had needed balance—but just a smidgen, and _really_ had Per—ouch— _he_ really provided her any?

Yes.

"Fuck," she repeats, falling into old patterns. Annabeth gulps down the rest of her sparkling wine and goes to pour herself some more.

He had provided her with relief, with an outlet. He had allowed her to freely express her passion outside of the workplace. He had never judged for being strange. But no!—he was a distraction and he had distracted her and—uh—distracted her from... important things, _more_ important things.

She was better off.

Annabeth finishes her fourth glass and sits back. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to push images of happier times from her mind.

"He's gross," she remarks out loud, misplaced venom bleeding into her words as she attempted to convince herself.

"Eh," Piper replies, her eyes still on the movie. "He's a bit old, I'll admit. And his vibe is a bit too midwest for me. But he's not ugly."

"He's annoying," Annabeth continues, ignoring her friend. "And he's sarcastic and ugh, really smug sometimes, and confident and really likes blue and like—ugh—is always singing for some reason. And he's like not even that good in bed and—okay, so like—maybe the sex was medium—but I'm 50% responsible for that so—"

"Annabeth," Piper interrupts. The blonde's eyes shoot open, landing on her friend who is watching her with a pair of dazed eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"P— _him_ ," she stresses, shaking her head. "He's just so annoying and stupid and cute and hard to forget and—ugh—he _promised_ , fucking promised, that it wouldn't be this way. He told me he could take it, and he couldn't. So—fuck him! FUCK HIM!"

"Annabeth!" Piper hisses, looking alarmed. "Don't yell! Tony will come find us, and I don't know if I can sweet talk him out of telling again."

"I - I think," Annabeth swallows thickly, feeling suddenly claustrophobic and warm, hot, no _scorching_ , in their small dorm. "I need to see him. I need to talk to him. I need to—to tell him."

"Tell him what?" Piper pleads, tugging on her friend's limbs as the blonde tries to stand. "Who? I still don't even know who you're talking about!"

"It doesn't matter!" Annabeth insists, struggling in her friend's grip. She knows she's physically stronger than the brunette, but in this moment, she can't muster the strength to fight her off and slumps back in defeat. "It doesn't matter who he is," she repeats, softer this time, more to herself than her roommate.

"No," Piper decides, her eyes suddenly shining with tears. It surprises Annabeth, the extreme reaction seemingly comes out of nowhere. "I've been such a good friend to you over the last two weeks. It's not my fault that _he_ —whoever this mysterious guy is—broke up with you." She waves her finger at the blonde in what Annabeth thinks is supposed to appear intimidating but really just reveals what a lightweight Piper is.

"Piper—" Annabeth slurs, trying to stand and failing.

"No," Piper goes on. "You need to tell me! If you don't tell me I can't help you. If you—I just—Who knows? Maybe I have some undercover gossip on him. We could use it against him—we could—"

"No," Annabeth shakes her head, momentarily entranced by the apparent feeling of her brain swaying in the cerebrospinal fluid that fills her cranium. "No, that would be mean. And you're not mean, don't be mean—no—not for me."

"For you—" Piper slips on her words, caught between a consonant and a vowel.

"I love you," Annabeth declares, feeling a knot in her throat rising, threatening tears.

OoOoO

(11:23 am) i have a proposition for u

(11:23 am) but u have to say yes before i tell u what it is

(11:30 am) **lol no**

(11:30 am) **im not taking that risk**

(11:32 am) pleasseeeee

(11:32 am) its part of your healing process

(11:32 am) i promise

(11:33 am) **no**

(11:33 am) **just tell me**

(11:35 am) im not telling unless u agree first

(11:45 am) **fine**

(11:45 am) **what is it?**

(11:47 am) okay soooo

(11:47 am) i decided u need to talk to more people

(11:48 am) like socialize more

(11:48 am) **k and?**

(11:48 am) and were gonna go to jasons frat for a party

(11:48 am) tonight

(11:48 am) seven

(11:48 am) b there or b square

(11:49 am) **what**

(11:49 am) **absoltuely not**

(11:49 am) **thats possbely the worst idae ive ever heard**

(11:51 am) omg

(11:51 am) r u having a fucking stroke

(11:53 am) **piper im not going to that party**

(11:53 am) y?

(11:54 am) **parties are dumb**

(11:54 am) **i dont want to go**

(11:54 am) **besides i have a lot of hw**

(11:56 am) no u dont

(11:56 am) ur to do list is literally on our door

(11:56 am) u dont have shit to do

(11:56 am) **um actually**

(11:57 am) **i have a very captivating book to finish**

(11:59 am) but books make u sad

(11:59 am) and parties make u happy

(12:03 pm) **not anymore**

(12:07 pm) but they used to!

(12:07 pm) and i want old annabeth back

(12:07 pm) the fun one who didnt cry all the time

(12:07 pm) the one who used to watch the bachelor with me and criticize the girls and the fabricated drama

(12:07 pm) i want THAT girl back

(12:07 pm) bring her back

(12:09 pm) **no**

(12:09 pm) **end of story**

(12:10 pm) ugh

(12:10 pm) fine

(12:10 pm) can we at least get dinner then

(12:10 pm) at that little pizza place

(12:12 pm) **i suppose**

(12:12 pm) **but no trickery**

(12:19 pm) wouldnt dream of it

OoOoO

Annabeth isn't under the impression that their trip to the pizza shop will be _amazing_. Or disastrous or life-changing or—She doesn't think it will be anything, really. She doesn't think much of it. Maybe she should have.

Annabeth and Piper pick a table by the window and sit down. Piper wants a slice of pepperoni and so does Annabeth. They purchase the pieces together and get a special. Not life-changing in the least.

Perhaps she should have considered that pizza was his favorite food and that—

That—

That—

Perhaps she should be thinking now too, but she can't concentrate on anything the second the door opens and in step Rachel and Percy. He's laughing. It's a warm comforting sound and reverberates through her whole body, through her whole being, but then it hurts, because it's not for her, it's for Rachel.

Fuck Rachel.

She knows she's being irrational and jealous but—

Fuck Rachel. She doesn't deserve him. Then again, neither does she but, still, fuck her.

"Are pumpkins fruit?" Piper asks, her brows furrowed and her lips slightly ajar at the realization. "But—" she glances up as Annabeth's gaze returns to her pizza. "Are you okay?" her friend questions, noting the way the blonde's hands shake as she lifted her slice and attempts to take a bite.

Annabeth tries to ignore him, she really does, but his presence plagues her, it awakens an ache in her she's long tried to subdue. She keeps her eyes on her pizza but she can still see him through her peripheral. He hasn't noticed her. Makes sense as she hasn't made a sound.

"Annabeth," Piper repeats, snapping her fingers to get her friend's attention. "Are you okay?" she queries once the blonde's eyes return to her.

"I—uh—" she can't form words, she can't process anything with him sitting so close. He's so close, so fucking close. It would take five seconds tops for her to reach him, to touch him, to apologize, to admit— "I'm fine."

Piper starts talking but Annabeth has tuned anything else out, her vision has tunneled, unemphatically landing on him. She nods, takes another bite of her pizza, and chew mercilessly, trying to act normal, like all the progress she's made in the last few weeks hasn't just disappeared, faded into the pizza-scented air.

He looks good, relatively anyway—he's always looked good—he looks good.

Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to look good. This wasn't supposed to be easy. Not for him. Not after the way he acted. Not after his final words. She was the one who had suffered in the end. Why? Why had the emotional burden berthed so decidedly on _her_ shoulders?

Why does he look so goddamn good?! Why is he so happy?

He's happy. The realization hits her like a beach ball to the face, making her blink, once, twice, three times. He's happy—without her—he's happy.

She was tempted to stand before, tempted to interrupt what she prays isn't a date. But not anymore—he's happy—and that, for a reason she can't quite comprehend, makes _her_ happy. Seeing him smile, even if it's not with her— _because_ of her—makes her chest feel a little lighter and her lips involuntary curl at the corners. He deserves to be happy, she decides. She'll let him be happy. Even if the smile doesn't meet her eyes.

And for an infinitesimal second, for the tick of the clock's smallest hand, she's at peace. The thought that he's happy, with or without her, brings her peace.

But then Rachel giggles wildly and shoves him playfully, slapping his chest, the way she used to, and the moment passes, the brazen movement resuming the passage of time.

Her throat goes dry. She can't comprehend full thoughts. Everything is happening too fast. She's breathing. But she can't catch her breath. And Rachel is wearing his sweatshirt. She's wearing a sweatshirt Annabeth had worn once. She flashes to peaceful moments of post-coital bliss. And she wonders, feeling bile rise up her throat at the thought, if Rachel has been in a similar position.

Something clogs in her throat and she knows, just knows, she needs to get out of here. But there's nowhere to go. Percy and Rachel are sitting next to the door and would easily see her. So Annabeth opts instead for the bathroom as her escape route.

"Don't follow me," she hisses to Piper as she stumbles to her feet. She rushes forward, aiming for the bathroom tucked in the shadow of a soda machine, and is only vaguely aware when she runs into a table, knocking the parmesan cheese container onto the floor. She ignores it, leaving the clatter behind and hoping the owner will understand.

Annabeth swings open the door and falls to her knees, sliding forward across what she assumes is a filthy bathroom floor. The blonde is grateful her hair is back in a pony as she empties her stomach into the foul-smelling toilet bowl before her, her moment of peace far gone.

OoOoO

 _R u good?_ Piper begins to text but is interrupted by a concerned Percy hurrying past her. She catches his desperate and shocked gaze and is momentarily confused by the depths the emotions seem to carry.

Does Annabeth even know Percy? She's been wrong about emotions before but—maybe he just has to pee like _really really_ bad. Or maybe he's insanely protective of parmesan cheese—

Oh.

"Shit."

* * *

a/n: It's late and I really don't feel like proofreading this rn. I'll do it later tho.

So, in regard to my absence. I'm sorry. I had a ton of college stuff and tests to take and then I went on vacation and my internet.

Anyway, here's what's up. I really work a lot better when I focus my energy on one story rather than three. Moreover, I'd really like to finish up what I have so for the next month I'm going to focus first on finish this (only a chapter to go so), then on _finally_ finishing Hotel Escape, and after all that I'll be able to focus solely on Funny Business. Who knows tho, knowing me I will probably start another story bc Funny Business alone will get boring. The bright side is I have another story already started and I'm ten chapters in so I have a head start of a month or so.

In conclusion, thanks for sticking with me. My finals are in two weeks. After that, I'm officially a second semester senior so you can expect _a lot_ more frequent updates.

Ciao!


	7. Chapter 7

Percy

"Fuck," Percy mutters under his breath, whipping open the door to the women's room. His eyes dart desperately around the room, seeking her out. Then he sees her. She's the only one in the room. Her back is turned to his and her hair—the curls he's reminisced spun around his index finger for weeks—are pulled back, the golden locks spilling down her back.

"Piper," he hears her groan and is forced to swallow back a strange urge to scream at the sound of her voice after so long. "I specifically asked you not to follow me."

Silence follows her words. He's unsure how to respond. He's imagined this moment, their first conversation, dozens of times but nothing seems to fit the atmosphere.

"Piper—" she begins again, and he watches as her head shake softly before settling into her arms. It's then he notices, with an air of _what the fuck_ and _is she okay_ , that she's spread in front of the toilet, her head perched just above the bowl.

"Annabeth," he murmurs. He thinks it might have been unintentional, maybe his subconscious was craving her reaction, he can't remember, can't find it in himself to care anyway because as soon as the first syllable leaves his lips, her head whips around.

"Percy," she breathes, her stormy eyes stuck on his figure, peering at him with such intensity he worries he'll disintegrate.

"Annabeth," he repeats, his voice stronger, slightly more confident. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she utters, her lips barely moving. She blinks severely—like she's trying to wish him away, to rid the space of his presence. "I'm fine," she reiterates, her tone taking a sharper edge the second time. She stands, albeit shakily, and purses her lips defiantly, the way he's so used to, the way he always loved.

"Are you sick?" he questions, concern laced in his breaths dancing between the words.

"No," she assured, discretely wiping at the corner of her mouth and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Are—" the thought strikes him like lightning, freezing him momentarily before setting him ablaze. "Are you pregn— "

"Can't be," she snaps, not allowing him to finish the thought. "We were always safe, used a - "

"But condoms break," he cuts in. "And they're only 87% effective when not used perfectly so maybe - "

"No," she shuts him down again and he's surprised to see a begrudging smile imprinted in the curve of her lips. "I'm on birth control. 99.98% effective."

"And that—"

"—means the chances are astronomical," she finishes his thought. "But .000026% to be exact, I calculated."

"Oh." He bites his cheek and glances up at her, swallowing thickly at the memories.

"How are you?" Annabeth asks him, her posture unusually rigid, even by her own standards.

"Fine," he replies automatically, having gotten in the habit over the past week or so. His friends didn't know exactly what had happened to him, but they knew heartbreak well enough to recognize the symptoms.

"Good," Annabeth responds. He sees her hand twitch at her side, curling into a tight fist, and wonders if it has been as hard for her as it has for him. He wants to ask. He wants to beg for her forgiveness. But then he remembers he has nothing to be sorry for. He clearly stated his feeling, and she did not reciprocate. That's not his fault. And she didn't seek him out afterward anyway.

Okay, so _maybe_ she texted him an apology a few days later—but it was so insincere, so apathetic, so un-Annabeth, he was sure it had been dictated to her. So he ignored it, because... well—fuck that, and fuck her.

"Why were you throwing up if you're not sick?" he queries, his eyes shooting to the toilet which is no longer filled with clear water.

"Becuase," Annabeth bites out, catching the direction of his gaze and quickly rushing to flush the toilet, washing away any remnants of her sickness.

"Becuase why?"

"Just because," she insists, her fingers tapping rapidly against the toilet paper dispenser. She's nervous, he notes. Nervous Annabeth was always difficult, not _too_ difficult, no, never, but difficult nonetheless.

Percy breaths in, bracing his patience.

"Just tell me," he pleads, his voice soft, negotiating.

"Why do you want to know?" she demands, her jaw clenching beneath her unusually pale skin.

"Becuase I care about you," Percy laughs. He isn't sure where the impulse originates, but his breath is escaping him in short sharp exhales as his lips curl around his words. "Even if—"

"Do you care about her?" she blurts out before snapping her mouth closed, seemingly surprised by her own outburst.

"About who?" he questions, confused.

"Rachel," she discloses tentatively, her eyes drifting to the floor as her throat trembles.

"Rachel?" he repeats, his brows drawing together as he watches her cringe at his word.

"Yes," she permits, shutting her eyes momentarily before opening them again and peering at him through her dark lashes, a dangerous glint in her eye, like she was on a precipice, teetering, just barely balancing between the possibilities.

"She's a friend—"

"She has your sweatshirt on, Percy." He watches her eyes fill with emotion, the sharp gray piercing him. "She's wearing it like I used to. She's touching you like I used to."

"She's just a friend," he assures her, wanting to put an end to any pain regardless of what he's suffered. "She was cold so I let her borrow my sweatshirt."

"You're friends," Annabeth nods, kicking at nothing with her feet. "Like you and I were friends?"

"We were never really friends, Annabeth," he tells her and is immediately ashamed at the flash of hurt that takes her features. It blinds him for a moment, that look of absolute anguish, of lung-crushing agony.

"Okay," she smiles, her eyes meeting his normally, her pain hiding in the darkness of her irises. "Have a good life, you deserve - "

"Wait," Percy interrupts as she begins to move towards the door. "That came out wrong I—"

"No," she shakes her head. "You're right—"

"No!" he insists forcefully, throwing his arm out to block her passage. "You don't understand."

"I don't understand what?" she sighs shakily, doubt dancing in the dark of her irises.

"I don't know what you want from me!" he screams finally, oblivious to the scene they're causing outside the doors.

"I don't _want_ anything!" Annabeth flares. " _You_ sought _me_ out. You walked into this _women's_ bathroom with the intention of—"

"Becuase you were sick," he explains, exasperation slipping into his words. "I wanted to make sure you were okay!"

"Leave me alone, Percy," Annabeth shakes her head, her loose curls floating over her forehead. She tries to move past him, but he is determined.

"No."

"Let me go, Percy."

No, he can't let her go. He wishes he could but apparently he cannot. He thinks about her all the time, whenever he picks up a book or drives past a coffee shop. When he falls asleep, her features manage to flash across the blank canvas of his mind, drilling her face into his psyche, rendering the change irreversibly.

"No."

"Percy! Stop torturing me!" Annabeth screams, and he watches her fall apart before his own two eyes. He watches as she reaches her breaking point and snaps.

It's elegant before. Her movements, still somewhat controlled. But after, with a simple twitch of her brow, she becomes chaos.

She gasps, beckoning air into her lungs as the tears slowly festering in her eyes begin to roll down her cheeks.

"It hurts to look at you, Percy!" she manages between desperate breaths. "It hurts to see you, to hear you, to _think_ of you even. Don't you get it? Didn't you see? It made me physically sick to see you and Rachel together—"

Holy shit. This was happening. Like really really happening. Percy covertly pinched his arm, wondering if he was dreaming.

"—That's why I was in here. That's why I can't listen to you, why I can't even be in your presence. Not while knowing that you don't love me anymore—"

"But I do—" he tries to cut in but she's not listening, he can tell, he always could. He wonders if she's rehearsed this moment like he has. The words are too choppy, he decides, too sloppy and simple and non-convulsed to be a Chase essay.

"Don't look at me!" she commands, turning away from him.

"What?" he solicits. "Why can't—"

"Because," she continues. "You told me crying girls were your kryptonite, and I don't want my tears to impact your opinion of me. I'm not going to manipulate your feeling for me. That would be completely unethical—"

He is tempted to laugh at her ridiculous antics, reminded of the girl he used to love, still does.

"—I know that you don't love me anymore. And that's fine because I get it. I took too much time to figure out how I felt and I lost you and—"

He freezes as her words halt. He hears her breath catches in her throat and is compelled by some otherworldly power to remain silent.

"I love you," she says finally. His eyes widen the smallest degree, but the surprise rapidly dissipates from his expression and is replaced with a broad grin. She turns to see his reaction and for a second, a minute, an hour—he's really not sure—they're caught in the moment, silent, even the sound of her breathing has ceased.

He blinks. And he's barreling towards her, taking her in his arms and holding her he's wanted to for over a fortnight. It's all he needs, for now, just skin to skin contact. Just the pleasure of knowing she's his and he's her's.

"I love you too," Percy whispers into her hairline. "In case you were wondering."

She sighs, seemingly in relief, or perhaps in satisfaction. It doesn't matter.

She knows now. And so does he.

And that's all the matters.

And maybe it's the emotional turn the night has taken or perhaps its the feeling of his heart expanding like in that animated Grinch movie he had forced Annabeth to watch in the _middle of the fucking spring, Percy, nowhere near Christmas, Percy._ Or it could just be the fact that he can say her name freely, he can scream it from the rooftops. But he's suddenly extraordinarily exhausted.

"Damn it," Annabeth bits out, pushing Percy away from her as tears fill her eyes again. "Fuck, Percy."

He's momentarily filled with fear, the cold curling around his heart and stealing the flutter from his lungs. Has she changed her mind? Is she going to take it back? Maybe she never -

"What?" he questions, his lips parted, his breath trickling out in short hot puffs as he recovers from the rough shove.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this!" she begins to cry, waving her arms in apparent anger. "It was supposed to be perfect. This moment was supposed to be perfect. This moment will forever be tainted by the smell of pizza and my puke and that horrible red curly hair on your shoulder."

What was she talking about? He is developing a bad case of whiplash from her rapidly changing mood.

"What are you talking about?" he voices.

"The I love you moment," she cries. "Stop looking at me! I'm manipulating you with my tears!" She sniffles and turns away from him before resuming her thought. "I wanted it to be perfect. But now we'll forever remember this as that time when I threw up because I saw you _touch_ another girl and my possessive tendencies were revealed and - "

"Forever?" Percy grins but she can't see the expression, only hear the teasing lilt of his voice.

"I mean, I don't know. Until—until we—um—"

"Our relationship has never been perfect," Percy tells her, stepping into her line of sight and placing his hands on her shoulders so she can't look away. "It wasn't love at first sight. Not even _like_ at first sight. In fact, I don't think I actually liked you until I saved you from that fake spider at the frat house."

"You didn't save me," Annabeth mutters without meaning to.

He smiles, leaning forward to capture her lips with hers in a chaste kiss. "I love you," he says as he pulls away and watches her eyes flutter open and her pupils dilate at the attention. "You and I aren't perfect. Our relationship isn't perfect. So why would we expect our big moments to be?"

"I just—" Annabeth begins to argue, feeling silly.

"Besides," he advances, his smile softening. "Perfection is overrated. If you were _truly_ perfect, you'd be super boring."

A comfortable silence follows his words, wrapping them in new found adoration and warmth.

"Are you sure the crying didn't impact your decision?" Annabeth checks as she reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing herself towards him the way a plant grows towards the sun.

"Yes," Percy chuckles gently with a shake of his head. "I was wrong, anyway. Crying isn't my kryptonite isn't my weakness," he presses another kiss to her lips. "You are," he mutters against the soft petals and is rewarded with a brilliant smile.

"It's summer," Annabeth states seemingly out of the blue. "What are we going to do?" she questions, gazing up at him with her big gray eyes.

"I don't know, don't care," he says decidedly, delicately tracing the familiar lines of her face with his fingertip. "As long as I'm with you, it won't matter."

OoOoO

(12:05 pm) we're waiting

(12:05 pm) r u coming or what

(12:07 pm) **sorry**

(12:07 pm) **couldnt find my keys**

(12:09 pm) ethan has officially started eating

(12:10 pm) were gonna eat ur food pretty soon

(12:12 pm) **i** **have arrived**

(12:12 pm) good

(12:13 pm) bc brandon is eyeing ur biscuit in a way i am just not comfortable with

(12:13 pm) pls walk faster or u will no longer be invited to boys brunch

(12:13 pm) **sorry**

(12:13 pm) **running**

OoOoO

"Don't go in there," Annabeth warns ominously as his fingers reach for the bottom drawer of her dresser.

"Why?" Percy asks, eyeing her with suspicion.

"Just because," Annabeth shrugs as she leaps forward, prancing awkwardly until she's standing between her boyfriend and the furniture.

"Just tell me why," Percy chuckles, shaking his head slightly at the anxious look in her eyes. "What could possibly be so bad that—"

"It's not bad per say," Annabeth illustrates. "Just something I'm not ready for you to see yet."

"Annabeth," Percy sighs softly, raising his hand to gently cup her cheek with the curve of his palm. "You can tell me anything."

"I know, but—" she groans in an exaggerated manner. "Fine."

He watches her with a funny look on his face as she digs into the drawer, covering its contents with her arms.

"Remember how you told me I should take some time to myself?" she queries, having seemingly located what she desired.

"Mhm," he mumbled, trying to see past her body. She appears to be holding a canvas.

"Well I enrolled in an art class outside of school and I painted this!" Annabeth shoves the piece into his arms, like an embarrassed toddler waiting for a reaction. "Do you like it?" she asks, her teeth gnawing nervously at her lower lip.

It's not amazing, not even good really. It's clearly a painting of the pond where he'd fed ducks with his mother, with her. But the trees are slightly deformed and the ducks look psychotic, not to mention the water is a strange overly saturated cerulean.

"I love it," he replies smiling. He steps forward and steals a swift kiss from her newly bruised lips.

"Ugh," she laughs. "Don't lie to me, Percy." She looks down at the painting. "It's horrible! It's ugly and—"

"You're right," Percy agrees and his expression of amusement only widens at her scowl. "It _is_ ugly. But I still love it, not because it looks like _that_ , but because you made it for me."

"Ugh," she groans again, slapping his chest lightly. "You're a hopeless sap."

"I know."

"I understand all the techniques perfectly," Annabeth explains, eyeing her painting critically. "I've extensive notes on color theory and read an entire book on watercolor, but when it comes to the actual painting I just can't seem to get it right."

"You don't have to be so unerringly accurate," Percy reassures her, setting the art on the floor. "Not for me." He nudges the painting away and uses his delicate hands to angle her face towards his. "This is enough. This is more than enough. It is perfect."

OoOoO

(5:03 pm) r u ever coming back

(5:03 pm) bc like im not complaining

(5:03 pm) ur a usual dick and everything

(5:03 pm) but piper doesnt understand my dr phil references and its getting to me

(5:10 pm) **ill be back soon**

(5:10 pm) **just to pick up some clothes tho**

(5:12 pm) oh

(5:12 pm) fine

(5:12 pm) guess ill just be here

(5:14 pm) **r u good?**

(5:14 pm) **ur being weird**

(5:16 pm) im fine

(5:16 pm) i just miss u bro

(5:16 pm) broseph

(5:21 pm) **no**

(5:21 pm) **broseph is long dead**

(5:21 pm) **but i** **miss u too**

(5:21 pm) **lunch tomorrow?**

OoOoO

"When did you know?" she asks one night, out of the blue as they lay, still intertwined in sweaty sheets.

"That I loved you?" he clarifies. "Or that I liked you?"

"Both."

"I suppose it was at Jason's party over spring breaks," he starts, thinking back to that warm California night that seemed so long ago. "I spilled that drink on you just to piss you off and—Jesus—your eyes just lit up at the slightest inclination of conflict."

"So that was when you—"

"Not quite." He smiles as she smiles into his neck. "You interested me, intrigued me."

"Ooo," she teases.

"Then that night, when the cops showed up I saw something," he continues, smiling at her outburst. "A crack in your mask, a glimmer of something softer underneath. So when I came home, I asked around. And it was strange because—becuase _everyone_ knew you. But I didn't. Then, at the April Fools day party. You shattered, you broke in the face of a plastic spider.

"I was then, I think. Or maybe, when I took you outside—and you just stared at me, analyzed me in the cold winter air. I knew I was fucked—not as thoroughly and irreversibly as expected, but fucked nonetheless."

"And when you loved me?" she asks after a second of sizzling silence.

"A moment like this," he grins down at her, smiling easily now. "A night with my arms wrapped around you and your breaths tickling my neck."

Annabeth can't fight the stupid cheesy spread of her lips and smothers the gesture in his skin, making sure to breathe obnoxiously while she was at it.

"What about you?" he counters.

"It wasn't a moment as much as a series of strong emotions, the culmination of undying tension," she says after a long while, so long he'd wondered if she was asleep. "It started out as an annoying itch, an inkling of a crush, and it slowly became an undeniable force."

"I'm pleased to know I never left your mind, even in my absence," he husked, sleep beginning to overtake him.

 _Never_.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

OoOoO

(6:03 pm) where r u?

(6:06 pm) **On** **my way!**

(6:07 pm) really?

(6:07 pm) **yes**

(6:07 pm) **r** **eally**

(6:14 pm) how far?

(6:18 pm) **5 minutes**

(6:18 pm) its only a 10 min drive

(6:19 pm) i knew u were lying

(6:20 pm) **not my fault**

(6:21 pm) **i wanted to bring the** **watermelon and annabeth tried to convince me not to**

(6:21 pm) **anyway it was a whole thing**

(6:23 pm) uh

(6:23 pm) did u

(6:23 pm) or did u not

(6:23 pm) bring the magical watermelon

(6:25 pm) **yes**

(6:26 pm) OMG I HAVE TO TELL PIPER

(6:26 pm) She says tELL HIM THanK YOU A MILflON Tiesm

(6:30 pm) **did u capitalize that weird on purpose?**

(6:30 pm) MayBE

(6:31 pm) **lol k**

(6:31 pm) **be there in 5**

(6:37 pm) **we're hither**

(6:45 pm) **dude**

(6:45 pm) **why tf** **is there blowup dinosaur in ur moms living room?**

OoOoO

"So," Percy remarks, wrapping his arms around Annabeth's waist from the back. "What do you think?"

"It's okay," Annabeth permits, fighting a smile as his mouth traveled up the column of her neck.

"Are you sure?" he whispers against her neck, reveling in the soft giggles escaping her lips, slowly morphing into a faint whimper. He's grateful, for the private balcony their standing on and her reaction. She'd usually shake her head and glare at him for such an egregious show of affection. "Just okay?"

"It's been good." He nipped at her pulse point, eliciting a gasp.

"Great."

Another bite, at the shell of her ear this time.

"Amazing."

"I'm glad," Percy breaths, chuckling against her skin. "I told you it would be fun."

"I have fun with you regardless of the setting," she smiles into the warm air after a beat. And it takes his breath away. They've been together for over a month but he's still not used to the touching words, the poetic lyrics that trickle out of her lips and down his spine, coaxing a shiver from him every time.

He's silent. Unsure what to say. He doesn't say anything in the end, knows she won't mind anyway, because she's Annabeth, and he's Percy—and they're _them_.

"Jason burned his hand," Annabeth remembers. She turns her head slightly to catch his gaze and watches, entranced, as the fireworks glowing in the sky reflect off his endless irises. "You owe me ten bucks."

"There's no other way I could repay you?" he grins, a playful look flashing across his features.

"Nope," she says with a pop.

OoOoO

(12:02 am) where did u go?

(12:07 am) come back

(12:15 am) piper is being reckless

(12:15 am) is kind of freaking me out if im being honest

(12:15 am) she says he misses u guys

(12:22 am) we're getting pizza

(12:22 am) u want some?

OoOoO

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we'd met under different circumstances?" Percy questions, his glassy eyes flicking from the clear night sky to the blonde laying next to him. "Do you think it would have changed things?"

"You mean if you hadn't hit me with a beach ball and then made weird jokes?" Annabeth returns, cocking her brows as a good-hearted smile graced her lips.

"Yes," Percy agrees with a roll of his eyes. "And if you hadn't been a total bitch and not even attempted to laugh out of courtesy."

"Yes," Annabeth shakes her head. She takes a deep breath in, savoring the warm night air. "I suppose I do."

"Do wonder or do think it would have changed us?" Percy clarifies, laying his head back down with a flutter of his lashes.

"I do think it would have changed us," Annabeth replies honestly. "But I told regret it, the way we met."

"Why not?" Percy chuckles, his eyes lingering momentarily on the cluster of stars he knew covered the Andromeda galaxy.

"If you hadn't met me and Rachel on the beach," she begins thoughtfully. "You would have never spilled your beer on me at that horrible party or intervened when the cops showed up. If we hadn't known each other previously you would have never saved me from that ginormous spider on April Fools. And if you had never saved me from that spider, then we would have never kissed."

"You don't think we would have met otherwise?" he inquires, eyeing her through his peripherals. She's staring up at the sky, mimicking his position. She's so beautiful in the bare moonlight, a silly 4th of July tattoo on her cheekbone and her hair up in a frizzy bun from when they'd gone swimming earlier.

He loves her. So much it hurts, it hurt, back then.—but now it doesn't, not anymore—no, he just loves her, pure and simple.

He loves her and she loves him.

"I think if we hadn't met on that beach," Annabeth explains, pursing her lips together, like the words have to fight to get out. "We would have had little run-ins, small meaningless encounters that never amounted to anything. I would have thought of you as a spoiled frat boy and you would have remembered me as an irritable workaholic."

"Perhaps," Percy ponders. He reaches out with his hand, looping her fingers through his. "You think it was fate then?"

"Hm?" she hums softly, tilting her head to face him, her half-lidded gray eyes shining.

"Do you think it was fate that brought us together?" he questions, swallowing at the sight of her.

"No," she whispers, laughing quietly. "I don't believe in fate. I like to believe we have autonomy over our decisions, over our lives."

He grins, using his spare arm to drag her into his chest, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she presses her head into the curve of his neck.

"Maybe it was luck," she decides, her eyes drifting up to his.

"Good or bad?" Percy wonders out loud, his words tickling her hair.

"I've always had back luck," she confesses, her breath slowing, spreading warmth to his extremities despite the weather.

"Me too," he sighs, tightening his grip around her.

"Neither then," Annabeth decides, tracing intricate patterns on the skin of his arm. "Dumb luck."

"Must have been," he agrees, his fingers readying themselves at her sides. "To land me with you, weirdo," he says before tickling her into madness.

And then they just lay there, her loud howls and gasps for air melting into giggles, and the giggles bleeding into the the summer air, disappearing into the promise of warmer days, of colder nights, of sun and rain and snow and shine and who the fuck cares what, because it's a future. And it's a future with her.

* * *

Yes, it's over. Now, on to hotel escape. Hope everyone liked the ending, I thought it was fitting.

makes me kind of sad tho, my first finished story. Oh well, out with the old and in with the new.

(didn't edit. will in the future tho)

Lots of love to all those who supported this story by reviewing or following or favoriting. I appreciate every single one of you!

¡Ciao!


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